


Fight, for you may know peace

by Kessie



Series: Changes [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, M/M, They just can´t seem to catch a break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-24 20:36:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 40,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/944386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kessie/pseuds/Kessie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They knew. Knew he would try again. Knew he would never let them live their life.  So they were prepared, weren´t they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this in the third Part in the “Changes” series. It will probably help if you read Part 1: Spero melior and Part 2: Fate, first. I doubt it would make sense otherwise. 
> 
> Thanks to sevenpercent for betareading again.

**Chapter 1**

 

The nerve racking buzzing of a fake bumblebee was the first sound which Sally heard when she awoke from her slumber at 7 in the morning. Grumbling curses about Sherlock, who always loved to change her ring tone, claiming that the reason was, that he liked bees, she managed to retrieve her mobile from the night stand without waking Mycroft next to her.

 

“Donovan.” She mumbled, looking at her bedmate for a second. Mycroft was still sleeping peacefully and Sally smiled. They only had a few hours together because Mycroft just arrived close to 4 at night due to some government crisis the tabloids did not yet know about. Thank god. That way he at least got a few hours sleep.

 

“Hey Sally, sorry to wake you so early but we´ve got a case. Murder in the Smithson retirement home. Say sorry to Mycroft as well, will you? I need you here.” 

 

Lestrade. 

 

Sally sighed and told him that it was okay. Confirming that Sherlock and John would be there as well, she hung up and turned towards Mycroft again, who was now very much awake.

 

“Work?” he asked and she nodded smiling, before letting herself be drawn into a long kiss. 

 

“Be careful, love.” Mycroft told her and Sally smirked.

 

“Ah as if there is anything to worry about. Your men are still watching me like hawks.” 

 

That only resulted in Mycroft looking serious. “Sally, you know it’s necessary...” He started but Sally waved him off.

 

“I know Myc. I know. But it’s been three weeks since Moran played all mighty agent at the MI6 and there has been no sign of that bastard since then. Maybe he has simply pissed off somewhere, I don´t know. I´m just tired being watched all the time.” She sighed. “I know it’s because you care, but still.” With that she wandered off into the shower, leaving Mycroft, who looked after her as she vanished into the bathroom. 

 

“I know Sally. I know.” he whispered, hoping that Moran had really pissed off for good, as Sally would say.

 

Sadly he was inclined to believe otherwise.

 

#

 

After getting ready and even eating a small breakfast which Mycroft had been adamant about, Sally gave her boyfriend a goodbye kiss and drove to the crime scene. 

 

At first she pretended to not see the black car which was following her but then she gave up. The special training on observation and being followed and the like which Anthea had given her seemed work wonders. She knew the men weren´t obvious to anyone else but she could recognize them on the spot now. A look into the rear-view mirror confirmed that Peterson and Sanders were her “special bodyguards” today. She considered waving hello to them but then decided against it. Drawing attention to her like that was not a good thing, no matter whether Moran was still out there or not. And maybe Mycroft and Sherlock, who approved of his brothers actions to set men on her, John, Molly, Lestrade, hell even on Anderson, were right about being cautious. 

 

Yet Sally didn´t want to worry about it all the time. So she thought about her first meeting with Mycroft that hadn´t had anything to do with his younger brother. 

 

_A few months ago..._

 

_It had been a weird day. Not only had the suspected murder turned out to no murder at all, she had also had to deal with a witness to a crime who had thrown racial slurs at her as she tried to get his account of it all._

 

_Luckily Sherlock had been there and deduced the shit out of him so that the witness had actually been crying for him stop at the end. Even though Sally could have held her own against the racist she was glad Sherlock had done this. It hadn´t been the first time either._

 

_Which led Sally to remember the other time when Sherlock had defended her like that. Back then they had still hated each other and yet Sherlock couldn´t stand anyone being rascist against her. The next day Sally had pondered what to say, which had lead to Sherlock insulting her intelligence and her romantic choices again and that had been that._

 

_Now she couldn´t help but think what could have been if they had really considered each other back then. Really talked, like they did now. Just once._

 

_Maybe the whole thing with Moriarty on the rooftop would have worked out differently? She still cursed herself for her role in this._

 

_Sherlock had grumbled at her to stop dwelling on things so much, but Sally was still pondering everything as she was on the way home._

 

_It probably should not have come as a surprise when a dark limousine had turned up next to her that evening. And yet she was surprised every time it did, even though Mycroft had kidnapped her a few times already. She guessed he wanted to talk about something pertaining to Sherlock or Sergej again. She got into the extravagant vehicle although she really wished she could have gone home instead._

 

_Inside, both, Anthea and Mycroft smiled at her._

 

“ _Rough day, Ms. Donovan?” Mycroft asked and Sally sighed._

 

“ _Did your brother send you?” she asked but continued at the tiny shake of Mycroft´s head. “Listen I´ve had a long day, I just want to go home. Just tell me what it is about Sherlock this time. Or is this about Sergej?”_

 

_With that she gladly took the cooled bottle of water, which Anthea offered. Okay, getting picked up by Mycroft Holmes after work could have its perks. Otherwise she would have gone thirsty until she was home._

 

_Mycroft had just slightly shaken his head once more. “No Ms. Donovan, I merely thought...”_

 

_He stopped, which left Sally a bit surprised. Was it bad news again? She hoped not. She was glad that the tumult which happened after Sherlock came back from the dead was slowly dwindling down and that the whole thing with Sergej slowly seemed to fade away as well. At least in her every day thoughts. The nightmares were another matter._

 

_She saw that Anthea was looking at her boss with big eyes now, before giving a long sigh. “He means to ask if you would be up to try “Chinghams”? It´s a new restaurant in Camden and supposed to be very delicious.”_

 

_Mycroft actually looked a tiny bit terrified now and then Sally got the picture. Wait a second, was he trying to ask her out? And more importantly, he seemed kind of scared to do it?_

 

_The car then came to a halt, which later Sally would think had been deliberately orchestrated by Anthea. But at this point she didn´t waste too many thoughts on it when the assistant got out of the car to go and buy some necessities as she called it. Because wasn´t it normal to buy necessities at 9 o´clock in the evening?_

 

_It didn´t matter, because it left her and Mycroft alone in the car. The looked at each other awkwardly for a few minutes, then Mycroft seemed to find his voice again._

 

“ _I´m sorry, Ms. Donovan. My assistant loves to meddle sometimes. I..” he didn´t get any further as Sally had made a decision and held up her hand._

 

“ _I don´t mind. Actually I like trying out new restaurants. And I´m starving!”_

 

_It didn´t seemed too strange that they didn´t pick up Anthea after that, as Sally thought about it later. But the evening and Mycroft turned out even more interesting than she had expected and the kidnappings to new or interesting restaurants became a regular occurrence._

 

 

It had taken about 5 dates until they had made it official and had called their meetings dating. Sherlock, John and of course Anthea had known already, and Lestrade who had been the next one to find out had wished them luck. Mycroft had asked if she wanted to be his girlfriend officially about 5 weeks ago and even if they didn´t have penetrative sex yet, they loved to kiss and just cuddle. 

 

Before the Moran’s deception at the MI6 with Moran she had stayed at Mycroft´s twice, but since then she had practically moved in with him. At first she had declined, afraid that their relationship went way too fast, but as she found Sherlock pleading at her, she had given in. Her new boyfriend being the safehouse wasn´t the same as moving in officially, was it? She at least tried not to think of it like that. She wanted to have a normal relationship. Everything should have its time and place in it. 

 

Also it had shown that the consulting detective was really worried as Lestrade, Molly and even Anderson were watched by Mycroft´s men. She supposed he even had men watching their families, although she had never asked. So if Sherlock thought that it would help, she would try to be okay with it. Even if she was scared that her´s and Myc´s relationship might be moving too fast. 

 

Damn Moran, she thought again. If she could get her hands on that bastard! She shook her head as these thoughts would get her nowhere anyway and parked her car she had arrived at the retirement home where the crime scene was supposed to be. 

 

#

 

Sherlock Holmes was happy. He was on the way to a new case. He was more or less rested as the nightmares which had resurfaced since the Moran incident, had been kept at bay the previous night, due to John sleeping next to him he supposed, not that he would ever admit that. That, and so far Moran hadn´t shown his damn face again. 

 

But most importantly there was a new case!! 

 

Finally.

 

Not that he liked people dying, mind you, but this time he was particularly glad to be distracted from his thoughts about Moran. That and the whole Christmas season and the following New Years Eve had never been his thing. It involved too much socializing. Too many people he didn´t want to see and too many parties he didn´t want to go to. 

 

Even though this year it had been better. He had skipped most of the Christmas parties and celebrated with Sally, Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson and John. 

 

On New Years Eve, John and him had gone out on what people would call a double date with Mycroft and Sally. They had attended Lestrade´s new years party and surprisingly it had been quite enjoyable, even though Anderson had shown his face there for about two hours, before going back to his wife again. 

 

So yes, his mood could have been described as ‘content’ as he walked into the retirement home. Because for him, another body was a good thing. 

 

His excitement diminished though, as he was brought to the body. God damn it, this case was so easy, he couldn´t understand why Lestrade couldn´t see it himself. Mr. Clarkson, 84, had been killed because he owed money to his room-mate Mr. Verde. There was even an IOU between the photographs of Mr. Clarkson´s family on the board next to the door. Really, any idiot should have seen that!

 

So yes. Boring. So much for another interesting case. 

 

He told Lestrade as much and noticed Sally making her way towards them. Tired, but happy. Obviously she had been thrown out of Mycroft’s bed when Lestrade called her here. Why in god’s heaven had he done that? It wasn´t that he didn´t like to see her. That was long past. No, she and Mycroft could have used some more rest. 

 

And even if it would have been a harder case, he could have solved this case by himself. Or together with John, as his blogger was standing next to him, looking decidedly tired himself. 

 

“Hey Sherlock, John.” Sally smiled at them.

 

“Case is already solved. And his majesty is grumpy.” John told her and earned a glare from him.

 

Very funny John. 

 

Not. 

 

Sally laughed. “Okay then I´ll be off again, I´ll just tell Greg. Maybe I´ll manage to catch Mycroft before he has to go to work. I don´t have to be in the office until midday. By the way, tomorrow at 9 at Baker Street, was it?” 

 

John next to him smiled and nodded and even though Sherlock was close to rolling his eyes he found himself nodding as well. 

 

Bloody sentiment. Why did he agree to celebrate his birthday again? Especially so close after Christmas? He should have told them Christmas and New Years Eve had been enough socializing and maybe they would have forgotten eventually. 

 

And yet a tiny voice inside him said that a piece of him was actually looking forward to the low key meal which they had planned. Just friends eating dinner they had said, and even though Sherlock only half heartedly believed them, he had agreed. 

 

Sally walked over to Greg, telling them she had to ask John something about a health problem. Sherlock didn´t believe she wanted privacy because of this, but he left them to it. It would make them happy if they could pretend that they would surprise him with his birthday present. 

 

And even if people were sometimes inclined to believe otherwise, Sherlock liked his friends to be happy.

 

So he said goodbye to Sally, nodded at Lestrade and told John he would be outside getting a taxi for them. 

 

He didn´t get very far. Just as he had stepped into the hallway he was stopped by an old woman, who seemingly was one of the inhabitants of the home. She had grabbed his coat and wouldn´t let go. 

 

“Sherlock.” She smiled at him, a little toothless because she wasn´t wearing her fake teeth and Sherlock felt a little strange by her weird facial expression. “It’s good you finally found each other. Make sure you take care of her, will you? Don´t run away again. Oh and I can see your knight is there as well...” She smiled even brighter, while Sherlock was both irritated and surprised. Did he know that woman? And who did she mean by ‘her’? And his knight? How was...

 

Then it hit him. He should have seen the similarity instantly he supposed. He even had a photo of her at Baker Street, the little gift Sally had given him at Christmas.

 

Mrs. Tumbleton, Sally´s former neighbour was still smiling at him as if he was her long lost son. Sherlock took a deep breath and gently took the woman´s hand from his coat. This time she complied, yet was still smiling. It was kind of eerie.

 

“What do you mean I should take care of Sally? You mean Sally, right?” he asked, but now he was rewarded by a quizzical expression. 

 

“Do I know you?” Mrs. Tumbleton asked then, taking a step back as he might be dangerous. “Where am I ? Is this the cafeteria?” She looked around, clearly lost now and Sherlock sighed. 

 

Alzheimer´s. Of course. It shouldn´t have come as a surprise. Mrs. Tumbleton must be well over 90 now. And yet Sherlock would have liked an explanation about what she had said about Sally. Had she known about Sergej? 

 

Had she even know what Sergej had done to him? 

 

He was just about to ask another question as a nurse appeared, taking the hand of the old woman. “I´m sorry, I hope she hasn´t been bothering you. She wanders off sometimes.”

 

Sherlock nodded. “I think I know her, Mrs. Tumbleton, right?” 

 

The nurse nodded, surprised.

 

“She was friend of my grandmother. I didn’t recognize her at first, but she recognized me.” 

 

Now the nurse looked even more surprised. “She did? Wow. Normally she doesn´t even remember her own name. Mostly she just asks for the cafeteria. The Alzheimer´s has progressed pretty far already. Often we have to remind her how to eat and drink.” 

 

She looked sad at that and shrugged, all too used to the sickness, Sherlock supposed. Mrs. Tumbleton took that moment and made herself known again. “Is this the cafeteria?” she asked and while the nurse shook her head, Sherlock decided he wouldn´t get anything out of the old woman.

 

Uncharacteristically kind, he patted her hand for a few seconds. “Goodbye Mrs. Tumbleton.” he said and nodded at the nurse, before leaving the retirement home, deep in thought.

 

He had just stepped outside when the memory of him with his grandmother hit him. He had deleted it or so he thought, because it seemed to come back to him now. Seeing Mrs. Eugenia Tumbleton must have been the trigger. 

 

_It had been a rainy day._

 

_Sherlock was bored. Why did he have to go with grandma to visit Mrs. Tumbleton anyway? He´d rather have continued his experiments with the bees he caught in the garden yesterday. They were such a fascinating species. Too bad his mother hadn´t allowed him a stock in their garden. Well he would sure find a way even if that meant he could keep only a few._

 

_Bored, he wandered around Mrs. Tumbleton´s apartment and went to the window and looked out. There, on the stairs of the entrance, was a little, dark skinned girl about his age. Seemingly lost in her own world she seemed to enjoy jumping around the rain._

 

“ _That´s Sally.”_

 

_Sherlock couldn´t help but flinch. He hadn´t even heard Mrs. Tumbleton behind him._

 

“ _You should watch her, you know? She´s connected to you.”_

 

_That caused him to look at the woman. What? Connected? The woman laughed._

 

“ _Don´t look so scared. She is a real nice girl, you know. Can be a bit of a handful but that´s mostly because she is scared or nervous. Want to go meet her?”_

 

_Sherlock hesitated for a few seconds. Meeting new kids was not always easy. Especially if he was smarter than they were, which happened most of the time. But before he could do anything, his grandmother was suddenly behind them, back from the bathroom he supposed._

 

“ _Eugenia, what are you doing with the boy?” She asked, clearly not amused, which caused Sherlock to turn around again and stop looking at Sally._

 

“ _What I have to. You know they are connected. I can see it!”_

 

“ _Don´t.” His grandmother was angry now,_

 

“ _But I can see it clearly. There are connected through two lines. And you know what that means.”_

 

_Beth Holmes seemed to stop for a second, before she grabbed Sherlock´s hand and went for her purse on the couch. “I don´t want to hear it.”_

 

“ _Beth please. I don´t make the rules. But you know its going to happen. You might as well introduce them already.”_

 

“ _No. I don´t believe in superstitious dreams.” She took her purse and grabbed Sherlock´s coat. “And you shouldn’t either, Eugenia. We can show ourselves out.”_

 

“ _Beth you are running away and you know it. What´s so bad about the two getting to know each other?”_

 

_His grandmother stopped again and turned to look at her friend. “Because if you see connections in people it always means that something bad is going to happen. I´m just protecting Sherlock and the little girl.”_

 

“ _You know you can´t-”_

 

“ _Yes I can and I will. Have a nice day.” With that his grandmother had left the apartment with him._

 

_Walking down the stairs by Sally, she had looked surprised at the sudden tumult from the apartment not too far away._

 

_Then she had smiled at him, before jumping into the puddles again, seemingly lost in her own world._

 

Sherlock was a little baffled at the memory. Now that he thought about it, it had been the last visit with Mrs. Tumbleton before the whole thing with Sergej had happened. And before his grandmother had died. 

 

So Mrs. Tumbleton had known? Had she been involved? No he would have seen that at Beth´s funeral, the last time he had seen her, he told himself. Then again his mother always thought the woman to be crazy anyway. “She believes in the supernatural, like horoscopes and such.” She had said and he heard his aunts saying something about visions come to think of it. 

 

So Eugenia Tumbleton had known about the bad things which happened to him and Sally through a vision? That alone seemed impossible, but due to the now progressed Alzheimer´s he guessed he´d never know. 

 

Seemingly lost in thought he waved at the taxi he had spotted to come closer. 

 

#

 

Entering 221b John Watson wasn´t sure if was angry or worried. Maybe it was a bit of both. Despite what Sherlock had told him he apparently hadn´t gotten a taxi for them. John had searched the whole first floor of the hospital, the car park and the park for his boyfriend but hadn´t found him. After another hour of running around he had given up and returned to Baker Street by himself. 

 

If Sherlock was at Baker Street, he would receive the talk of his life. Now John understood that Sherlock didn´t really like that they were planning his birthday that much, but that didn´t warrant running away. Sherlock knew John hated that and since he had jumped from Bart’s it made John extremely worried if he didn´t know where Sherlock was. 

 

Sherlock had said he understood and vowed to always tell him where he was going. So far it had worked but now John wasn´t so sure any more. 

 

Well, wherever the consulting detective had run off to, it sure as hell wasn´t this flat. With a little sigh John settled down in his chair, thinking. Where the hell could he have gone? He had no reason to be worried, Sherlock was a grown man. Yet with Moran out there, one never knew.

 

Deciding it was the best to wait, he began making himself some tea.All of the sudden his phone started to ring. 

 

It was Mycroft. 

 

“John, we have reason to believe that Sherlock might have been kidnapped.”  
  
“What? Why? I mean, what happened?” A little panic rose within himself. It couldn’t be Moran, could it? 

 

“Details are unclear but he activated his tracker not too far from the retirement home where you guys were working.”

 

“What? He has a tracker?” 

 

Mycroft seemed a little bit annoyed at his outburst. “Yes, he has. A precaution we made after the whole business with Moriarty. It was one way to make sure we could know where everyone was. Be ready in a few minutes, we are going to pick you up.”

 

“I´m already ready. Just came home ten minutes ago. Wait a minute. Everyone?” 

 

Nothing.

 

“Mycroft, do you mean every one of us has trackers? What the hell?”

 

The sound of the door and the creak of the stairs announced someone entering. John didn´t need to turn around to know it was Mycroft, phone still in hand.

 

“I assure you, John, it was done in your best interests. It only tracks you when it’s activated anyway. We didn´t want you to have the impression we were keeping track of you all the time. Also, it’s safer in case someone else gets wind of the tracker as well.”  
  
Since he didn´t have the energy to argue John just sighed. “When?” 

 

“The flu-shot at the Yard yesterday, where Molly assisted.” 

 

A sigh. “Yeah come to think of it the timing was a bit off. So Molly knew?” John laughed slightly. 

 

Mycroft nodded at that. “Yes she did. And she agreed and had one herself. Sherlock was supposed to tell you all anyway, as I was having a meeting with the prime minister.” 

  
Come to think of it Mycroft didn´t look to happy about it either. So John let it go. 

 

At least for now.

 

“So what do we know?” he asked, changing back to the more important things at that moment.

 

“Sherlock activated his tracker about an hour ago close to Kings Cross. I immediately sent men to follow him and set to go there myself, but the tracker must have malfunctioned. We lost the signal after 10 minutes.” 

 

John closed his eyes at that, cursing inwardly. “That means he could be everywhere. Or maybe he set off it accidentally and switched it off again?”

 

A shake of Mycroft´s head. “No, it’s foolproof. You can´t set it off accidentally. We made sure of that.”

 

Another nod from John, who picked up his phone and keys, ready to go.

 

“There´s more John.” 

 

That made him stop.

 

Mycroft seemed off somehow, John thought then. Really shaken. So it couldn´t be good news. 

 

“I can´t seem to reach Sally either.” 

 

God fucking damn it. “So it´s Moran.” 

 

Mycroft didn´t even nod at that, they just left 221b together.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 

When Sherlock woke, it took him a few moments until he realized what had happened. He only remembered walking out of the retirement home, then suddenly pain and -

 

A needle. 

 

He had been injected with something and had been held down. 

 

And then when he was weak enough, he had been thrown into the back of a van. He had used his last energy to activate the tracker located in his left arm. Said tracker had been a surprisingly good idea from Mycroft for once. He had put his arms around himself, looking as if he wanted to protect himself and had taken the small chip between the thumb and the ring finger of his right hand. It was located directly under the skin, so it wasn´t hard to find, but it would only transmit anything with activation. Pressing it three times had activated it, he was sure. 

 

But now due to the pain in his left upper arm he was sure they had found it. Drowsily he opened his eyes and looked left. His arm was bloody, so the kidnappers had taken it out. 

 

Damn it.

  
But maybe it had been in long enough?

 

Probably not because neither Mycroft nor his men were anywhere in sight.

 

“Ah Sherlock. Wakey wakey!” Sherlock actually fought with himself not to puke at the sound of the voice, which was probably also due to the medication that he had been given.

 

Moran. 

 

Of course. 

 

“What do you want?” he drawled out, voice still unsteady and tried to sit up which only worked at the second attempt. Damn barbiturates. 

 

“Oh, what do I want? Hmm.” Sebastian Moran was pacing around the room, an abandoned factory from the looks of it, like a boy who couldn´t wait to play with his toy. “What do I want? Oh you´ll see soon enough.” 

 

The former soldier seemed to be incredibly impatient, but it took a while until Sherlock could actually get on his feet. Sherlock had used the minutes to look around a bit. From the looks of it they were in an old abandoned factory, close to the Thames. Sherlock felt himself reminded of the time he was undercover when the whole world thought he was dead after the fall from Barts and suddenly Sally had been placed in front of him. It had been inconvenient, because he had been afraid that she would reveal him, but a small part of him had been glad to see her even then. She had been the only connection to his old life, unless you counted Mycroft. Which he hadn´t. 

 

But now the situation was even more dire. Back then he had been the kidnapper not the prisoner. And he hadn´t been drugged, damn it, which proved to be far the bigger problem right now. 

 

Still dizzy, he was placed on his feet and led through a dark hallway into another room. His hands were bound by cuffs in front of him and while Moran led him by his arms, two men followed them, making sure he would actually walk. 

 

While it was actually hard enough to stay on his feet at this time, Sherlock tried to tell himself that he could get out of this. No matter what tortures Moran had planned for him, he would withstand them and would find a way out. 

 

He just had to. Especially now that he had finally found John and was starting to build an actual relationship with him. 

 

His hopes were crushed though, as he entered the room and saw what, or better who, was waiting for him there. 

 

It was Sally.

 

His friend was lying on her back, bound onto a table, completely naked and shivering like a leaf. She seemed dizzy as well and due to the eight iron-cuffs which bound her legs and arms twice each in strategic places, she couldn´t even move a centimetre. 

 

Sherlock didn´t even need to ask what Moran had planned for him. 

 

Or for them. 

 

The bastard knew. Probably had even read the damn files describing his and Sally´s abuse by the same russian agent- two children who couldn´t be more different and yet suffered a similar fate just because they ran into that monster Sergej. 

 

Knew about his father´s death in front of his eyes, hell maybe he even knew what they had done last year and that they had Sergej in custody now.

 

Moran probably had laughed reading it, all amused, probably gloating at such news, and Sherlock felt sick. 

 

It was then when his legs gave in and he found himself down on the floor, with an irate Moran in front of him. 

 

“Oh we are getting weak already?” he spat, hauling Sherlock up quickly again, which nearly caused the consulting detective to fall over once more. “That´s not an option, Holmes.” 

 

Sherlock just huffed. You shouldn’t have drugged me then, he thought, but didn´t say anything. Instead his gaze found Sally once more. Why did she have to go and try to save him a few weeks ago? Stubborn, dumb women. She would have been safe, damn it. 

 

Safe. 

 

Moran seemed to have followed his gaze and started to laugh. “You are going to fuck her, you know? Show her what it means to be associated with you. “

 

Even though Sherlock had already guessed what was coming he found himself feeling violently sick once more. Shaking his head slightly he was somehow proud to bring out a non shaky “No.”, even though it wasn´t that loud.

 

“No?” Moran laughed harder. “Oh come on that shouldn´t be news to you. Everybody gets used by you, one way or another, don´t they? Normally people notice rather quickly and make sure they get far away from you as soon as possible. But some...” He pushed Sherlock closer to Sally so that there were only a few meters between them now. “...well, some never learn, do they?” 

 

With that Sebastian smiled at Sally, who was watching them now, fear evident in her eyes, yet still strong. She had even forced herself to stop shaking, which made Sherlock a little proud somehow. Donovan had always been strong, even back when they had disliked each other. She also had been one of the few to question him. It had made him respect her somewhat even then, although he wouldn´t have admitted it. 

 

“So?” Moran teased him, but not loud enough for Sally to hear. “Give her a nice big, hard fuck and we can get her out of here. What do you think?” 

 

Again a shake of his head. Then: “I´m not going to hurt her.” Nice and clear. Loud enough for Sally to hear as well, even though he wasn´t sure how much she noticed due to the drugs.

 

Moran though didn´t seem to be amused by this. “Okay. Then we will make sure you will do so anyway.” He nodded at the two men behind them which now had been joined by two more, which were guarding the door. They took a hold of Sherlock immediately. After that Moran produced a big knife from a bag in a corner next to the door and walked up to Sally. At that point Sherlock realised that she was at least aware enough about what was happening that she tried to get away from Moran, but utterly failed due to the metal bindings. 

 

Sherlock himself was trying to kick the two men off him, with out much success. It made him rather dizzy, which he couldn´t care less about, as he saw how Moran put the knife down at Sally´s right arm and started to cut from wrist towards the elbow. It was a long, deep cut and Sally made an inhuman noise as blood welled up immediately. 

 

Moran though seemed to enjoy himself. While Sherlock was trying to use the last reserves to get the men off him, he looked at Sally who was silently crying now, trying to breathe hard through the pain. Then his hand went towards the wounded arm and all Sherlock could yell was “Leave her alone you bastard.” before Moran placed his fingers into the wound. 

 

Sally let out another cry as he took hold of one of her tendons, which could be seen in the deep, still heavily bleeding wound. “So Sherlock? Still uninterested?” he teased and then took the knife and cut the tendon. Sally was screaming loudly now and Sherlock let out an undignified noise as well, barely able to choke back his tears and the bile in his throat.

 

Taking a deep breath he forced himself to calm down. This was helping neither him nor Sally. He needed to focus. He was still free on his feet, so he had more of a chance of getting them out of there than Sally, he supposed.

 

He needed to make use of this. But how? 

 

Moran was watching him once more. “You know, I won´t kill her. I promise. But that doesn´t mean I won’t harm her. I´m just showing her what it means to be your friend.” He told him and turned to Sally, slowly stroking through her hair with his bloody hands which led Sally to try to turn her head away. She didn´t have much success. 

 

“Oh darling.” He drawled. “You know, I´m just trying to teach you all a lesson. Sherlock Holmes will use you, you know? He´d rather let me harm you, than get harmed himself. You were right back then. He just doesn´t care about others.” 

 

“Fuck you.” Sally spat and Moran giggled at that. 

 

“Ah she is still a feisty one. I like her. But she will pay the price you know? Not killing doesn´t mean I won’t take her apart, piece by piece. What do you think, she doesn´t need both eyes, does she?” with that the knife went close to Sally´s face and dangerously close to Sally´s left eye and that was enough for Sherlock. 

 

“Okay, okay. I´ll do whatever you want me to. Just stop this.” he pleaded.

 

Moran smiled now. “Will you?”

 

Sherlock forced himself to nod. “Yes. Just don´t hurt her anymore.” 

 

Trying to get his breathing and the rest of his body under control, Sherlock watched Moran walk up to him until he was inches away from his face. “Okay, then I´ll sit back and enjoy the show, shall I?”

 

The men let go of him, and Sherlock stood there for second, not sure what to do. Knowing what was expected of him was one thing, but the how was another thing. Women didn´t do a thing for him, they never had, but even if they did, he was sure he couldn´t have gotten an erection at this point. 

 

Maybe if he tried to access his mind palace and think of John? He shuddered as he didn´t like to use him like this, but there was no other choice was there? 

 

He opened his pants and took his hands to himself, which wasn´t that comfortable with cuffs. Just put yourself into a trance, he told himself. You can do this. 

 

But it wasn´t working. 

 

Moran was getting rather annoyed by this as well and finally held up his hands. “Okay, okay. God you are even more pathetic than I thought you would be. Luckily, I thought about that.” 

 

With one flick of Moran´s hand he was grabbed again, his pants were yanked down and Moran produced a small vial. Sherlock told himself that it was just transport, that he didn´t feel a thing, but being humiliated like this was hell. He tried to not feel the injection, which of course didn´t work, and even attempted to will away the painful erection which appeared about 3 minutes later. 

 

“It´s just transport. Not really important.” echoed through his head over and over again as he shakily stepped up to Sally. 

 

Just as he entered her as carefully as he could - he would try and hurt her as little as possible- he saw it. Sally´s left arm was unharmed! That could only mean that they hadn´t found the tracker yet. Why the hell hadn´t he seen this earlier? He put it down to the drugs and the shock of the environment.

 

A strange feeling of joy and weirdness entered his guts and he made a weird noise that caused Sally to open her eyes, which she had closed as Moran had injected him. She of course had no idea what was going on, as she didn´t even know about the tracker. 

 

Bending over her, he placed his still cuffed hands at the right point at her left arm and whispered to her “I´m sorry, Sal.” before giving her a kiss on her forehead. He tried to maintain the movement of his groin while he searched for the tracker and as he finally found it, he took it between middle finger and thumb and pressed three times. 

 

There was a slight buzz between his fingers, so he was sure that it had worked. Sherlock would have loved to let out a scream of joy, but remained quiet instead, still slowly doing what Moran had told him to do, feeling nothing while doing so. He searched for Sally´s eyes and tried to silently relay to her that everything was going to be all right somehow, as he couldn´t say it out loud. 

 

And yet he was praying inside, screaming at the world: Damn it Mycroft, come on. Hurry. 

 

 

#

 

 

It had taken a while until Sally had grasped where she was. Cursing the drugs, she took in her surroundings and came back with the fact that she was in some kind of factory. Bound naked to a table none the less. 

 

It wasn´t hard to figure out who had brought her here. 

 

“Fuck you, Moran!” She had thought, just as she heard someone walking up to her. Blinking through the dizziness she had seen the man she had feared to be the culprit, accompanied by two bullies. 

 

And Sherlock. 

 

She fought the urge to puke as she saw her friend with this monster and dreaded what was coming since she knew it couldn´t be good. At least he seemed mostly unhurt, except for a small wound on his arm which had stopped bleeding already. Moran seemed to be giving Sherlock orders, which she couldn´t hear as she was still too far away. Sherlock didn´t seem to like what he was saying one bit and a second later he was grabbed by the two bullies, while Moran picked up a knife and walked up to her. 

 

Cold, deadly fear walked its way up through her gut, for herself and for Sherlock.

 

He would make him watch. 

 

Moran would kill her right in front of Sherlock and he would make him watch. 

 

She tried to get away but the bonds were too strong, so that she couldn´t do anything but watch as Moran cut her arm. It hurt like a bitch and she tried to breathe through the pain, just as a monk from this weird case a few weeks ago had told her to, in case she got her monthly cramps again. It didn´t really help. The pain made the dizziness worse though and she saw more than heard Moran talking to Sherlock. 

 

And then there was pain once more as Moran cut her arm again. Parts of the conversation she could make out and a moment later she understood: He wanted Sherlock to rape her. She screamed at this and yet she was somehow relieved when Moran didn´t take her eye out and Sherlock agreed instead. 

 

It was weird, but she wasn´t afraid of Sherlock. Had someone told her this over a year ago, she would have laughed and said that he was a psychopath and not to be trusted, but now? To be honest she didn´t feel a thing at the moment. Pain, yes, but it was thrumming in the background, while her feeling, hell nearly all of her soul, seemed to be gone somewhere. 

 

Maybe this was what Sherlock meant when he said it was just transport? Or maybe she was going into shock, but too be honest she didn´t really care. 

 

It meant she would survive this. 

 

So she tried to tell Sherlock through looks that she would be okay and saw him trying to do what Moran was requesting from him. He failed though and as the bastard injected him she was screaming obscenities as screaming was all that she could do to fight back. 

 

Closing her eyes, she felt Sherlock come up to her. He was gentle and it made her cry more as she remembered all the damn fights they had in the past. Right, that´s the perfect time to think about such things, she scolded herself, and opened her eyes as Sherlock made a rather strange noise. He seemed totally out of it and she prayed that his sanity was stored safely somewhere within his mind palace. God please let us survive this, she pleaded and felt him kiss her head. Then he suddenly was at her healthy arm, searching, then applying pressure? What the hell? 

 

It lasted for a few seconds, then his hand left her arm again. 

 

He had done something hadn´t he? But what? She was still too dizzy and feeling too dazed to understand what he had done. Whatever it was, she hoped that it would help. Help him, help her, it didn´t matter. 

 

They would get through this. They had to. 

 

Sherlock was still steadily moving inside her. The men were cheering now, laughing, but Sally tried to tune them out. She saw that Moran was standing next to them once more, grinning like a kid in a toy shop. “Oh, come for me, Sherlock!” he giggled and Sally felt bile rise in her throat as she thought that this monster was getting off on it. 

 

It was only about a minute later when Sherlock actually came, without any sound at all. Under the cheering of the men he stepped back and slipped out of her. He bent down and took his pants to draw them up as fast as possible. But as she had resorted to only watch him now, she saw that he was still half hard. She shuddered because he looked like he was in pain as well. She didn´t wanted to know what Moran had injected into him. Whatever it was it couldn´t have been healthy. 

 

Looking at her arm she saw that she was still bleeding steadily. It still hurt like a bitch but she was more or less getting used to the waves of pain wrecking through her body. Sherlock seemed to have followed her gaze as well, as he demanded. “You said you wouldn´t kill her. So get her medical attention or she might bleed to death.” He looked rather lost at the moment, tremors wrecking through his legs which made Sally worry about him.

 

Moran smiled at that and Sally was sure that he wouldn´t give a damn. “I will see to that. But first...” 

 

It was then that suddenly the room exploded into a warzone. The door to the hallway was kicked in, followed by a sniper who immediately shot the bully who was next to Moran between the eyes. Sherlock jumped into action and onto Moran, tackling him down onto the floor. She saw him trying to reach for the knife which Moran had stuck into his belt and wished she could help him. The other remaining men ran for cover to the far end of the room towards some old forgotten crates. They seemed to be interested in their own asses mostly, not caring about Moran, and Sally thanked the heavens for that. 

 

While the sniper, protected in full safety-gear, came to stand in front of her and Sherlock to shield them from Moran’s men, Sherlock had somehow wrestled the knife of Moran. He was sitting on the ex-soldier now, pressing him effectively into the floor and Sally was glad he had won. Taking a deep breath she wanted to look for Mycroft, John and the others who she hoped would soon come through the door, but registered Sherlock raising his hands and looked back to him instead. 

 

Moran still wasn´t giving up and tried to wiggle from under him but Sherlock didn´t seem to be concerned by this. Instead he raised his hands, with his fingers still grasping the knife,just as Moran got one arm free. And before Moran could get any more leverage Sherlock stabbed him in the neck, close to his throat. 

 

Moran let out a gurgling noise as Sherlock took the knife to him. 

 

One. Two. Three times, all in quick succession.

 

Then Moran was silent. 

 

Sherlock appeared to be in trance for a few moments, knife still raised, just staring at the body.

 

While the sniper and another colleague were closing in on the other men now, who seemed to have at least one gun as well, Sherlock came to life again. The knife was discarded onto the floor as he continued to stare at his bloody hands in shock, before looking at her for a second. 

 

Sally cursed that she was still bound, but was relieved as suddenly Mycroft and John rushed into the room. While Mycroft cut his brother´s cuffs with a bolt cutter, John immediately tended to her arm and a second later Mycroft was with her, getting her free. 

 

All the while Mycroft´s men had formed a safe wall with bullet proof shields and were fighting the remaining three men. She was sure she had seen Lestrade, Anthea and maybe even Anderson, but she might have been imagining it. Yet, that was the moment when Sally finally allowed herself to breath again. 

 

It was weird, the whole damn thing had probably taken barely two minutes, but to Sally it had seemed like everything was in slow motion. Now the time seemed to rush in again, as well as the pain, as John was prodding at her wound. 

 

“I´m sorry, Sally. It might hurt a bit, but I can´t give you anything until I know what’s in your blood, as you are still clearly affected by it.” His gaze went over to Sherlock as he took a bandage, which Mycroft had gotten out of the medical emergency bag.

 

“Sherlock?” John called. “Sherlock, we are getting Sally out of here. Come with us, yeah?” But the consulting detective didn´t seem to hear him. So Mycroft tried to call him instead, all the while he was trying to help John with a decent bandage for her arm. Said doctor suddenly cursed. 

 

“Damn it, it’s bleeding more heavily again. Mycroft, I need you to press down. I´m sorry Sally, it’s going to hurt, but we have to get you out of the line of fire first, okay?” 

  
A nod. Then Mycroft pressed down onto the wound, which hurt so bad that it made her sees stars and she screamed. 

 

Next to them a man with a stretcher appeared and she was placed onto it while John was still working on her, assisted by Mycroft. 

 

“Sherlock get out of here. Come on. “John called again and then she was rushed towards the door. 

 

“Sherlock.” She tried as well, but as her voice was strained and hoarse due to all the crying, she was sure that he hadn´t even heard her as she was wheeled out. 

 

The shots fired between Mycroft´s MI6 men and Moran´s lackeys became distant sound as she was wheeled into the cold night air. 

 

It was okay, she told herself. 

 

We are going to be okay.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah well. Sherlock and Sally don´t seem to like me at the moment- but I love putting my characters through some misery I´m afraid. So what do you guys think?
> 
> Oh and big thanks again to sevenpercent for betaing. Couldn´t do it without her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 

David Anderson had seen lots of things in his life. Most of the horrific ones had been due to his job. Gruesome murders, body parts, dead animals, abused kids- there was hardly anything which left him shaken anymore, he was somehow proud to say.

 

And yet, there were always situations which you weren´t prepared for. Or you probably couldn´t be.

 

Just like now.

 

After Moran impersonated the MI6 agent at the headquarters of MI6, he had agreed to stay at Mycroft Holmes` house for the first two nights, even though he didn´t think he was in any danger. Even after these nights when they were allowed to go home, he had snorted as Mycroft made sure his men were watching him and Lestrade, Molly and Sally at work and simply everywhere.

 

And yet Anderson had let it happen.

 

But not because he had been worried about himself, no. Moran wasn´t after him. He was too insignificant, but even he could tell that Moran had been angered by Sally´s actions at the headquarters. So that made her a target, and since Sherlock was sure Lestrade had been a target all along, David thought he´d agree to everything.

 

Better safe than sorry.

 

But it turned out that it hadn´t been enough.

 

He had been with Lestrade when they heard, that Sherlock and Sally were missing. Deep inside he pleaded to the heavens that they would turn up unharmed, but he knew that it had to be Moran again.

 

It had only taken minutes until John and Sherlock´s brother had turned up at the Yard to get Lestrade and Anderson. They weren´t taking any chances John had said, and Anderson wanted to comply.

 

Go to the safe house.

 

Again.

 

But then Lestrade´s mobile had rung, with Moran telling him to check his emails.

 

“Just so you all see how important you are to the freak.” The man said as Lestrade switched his phone to speaker, Mycroft’s men already busy trying to trace the bastard. “He always puts himself first and he will inflict pain on you if it’s convenient for him. Don´t say I didn´t warn you all to stay away from him. He will destroy all of you.”

 

Then the line went dead.

 

 

The email turned out to be a link to a live camera feed of some kind. It had taken a few seconds to realize the poor woman on the table was Sally.

 

Seeing Sherlock stepping up to her, as she was naked and tied to a table, Anderson had doubted him for second. Maybe this Moran guy was right. Maybe Sherlock really didn´t care?

 

Or did he?

 

A few moments later David had his answer and Moran began torturing Sally. He could nearly feel Sherlock´s fear and disgust as it was written all over his face, because he never had seen an emotion on the consulting detective´s face so clearly as it had been then.

 

As the forensic technician tried to not loose his breakfast, Lestrade next him went frantic while Mycroft barked orders at his men and his assistant. Dr. Watson slumped down onto a chair and went completely grey in his face, so that Anderson feared that John might even collapse completely next to him. Yet if one looked more closely, one saw that the former soldier had a slight tremor and David recognized he was actually shaking from anger.

 

“He knows.” The doctor had murmured. “He knows their story.”

 

Anderson had no idea what he was talking about but he tried to stay close to John in case he would collapse. Yet he still watched the monitor as well, deep worry for Sally and yes, even Sherlock, etched in his mind. He was so scared at that moment that he didn´t even wonder why he suddenly cared about the detective, but later decided it was probably because he´d never wish anything like that on anyone.

 

Shaking his head, John had been close to crying, now more devastated than Anderson had ever seen him. “Damn it Mycroft, how does he know?” he asked. “I thought you had destroyed all the evidence. Sherlock asked you to. Fuck!”

 

With that he got up and kicked a trash bin through the room.

 

Mycroft hadn´t answered John, but Anderson wasn´t dumb. Even though Sherlock always said he was.

 

He had suspected for a while that there had been more to Sally and Sherlock, than their encounter in the warehouse when Sally had been caught by this human trafficker ring. Sherlock and Sally obviously had learned that they had a history together, and as he had already suspected abuse in Sally´s past once, it now made sense.

 

He wasn´t sure if he was 100% right, but he wouldn´t ask.

 

He felt sick to his stomach even thinking about it. The situation was bad enough already, but if both, Sherlock and Sally had been abused in the past...

 

He didn´t want to think about it.

 

Sally was- they were – his colleagues or even friends somehow and he didn´t want to imagine them in a worse situation than they were already in.

 

They had been lucky Sherlock had been able to activate the tracker in Sally´s arm and they all had immediately jumped into the vans Mycroft did have waiting for them. And even more fortunate that it hadn´t been far. It had hardly taken 10 minutes by car until they had reached the abandoned warehouse. Why was it that baddies always used abandoned warehouses anyway, he asked himself and shook his head at that.

 

Shaking off his thoughts, he saw that John was working on Sally´s injuries and trying to get her to an ambulance, together with Mycroft who helped the Dr. to calm her down.

 

Lestrade and Anthea were helping Mycroft´s men to contain the rest of the bastards and he felt a bit weird and helpless, simply standing in this room, not sure what to do. He wasn´t good with guns though so jumping into the fight wasn´t an option.

 

Then he saw Sherlock.

 

Mycroft had called after his brother to come with them two times, while he held down the bandage on Sally as John was fastening it, but the consulting detective didn´t seem to hear him.

 

All the noise, the men from Moran still putting up a fight, Sally screaming, everything seemed to pass over Sherlock´s head as he just stood there, staring at his bloody hands, saying nothing.

 

Not far from him Anderson could see the body of Moran. He thought of Sally´s words to John, a long, long time ago. “Someday Sherlock Holmes will be the one who put it there.” and shuddered.

 

Yes, she had been right.

 

Somewhat. But in this case Anderson was glad she was because otherwise he would have killed the damn bastard himself if he could.

 

As Mycroft and John carried Sally out of the room to get medical attention, she was still bleeding heavily despite the good Doctor’s ministrations, Anderson stepped up to Sherlock. Remembering that Sally told him once that Sherlock hated to be touched by people he didn´t like or know, he tried talking to him first.

 

“Sherlock?”

 

Nothing.

 

“Hey Sherlock, Sally is on the way to hospital, come on, let´s follow her, okay? People need to look at you as well.”

 

Nothing. The normally out spoken and often downright rude detective seemed catatonic now. Totally lost, staring at his hands which were still red from Sally´s and Moran´s blood.

 

Deciding that he sure as hell couldn´t stay here especially since Moran´s men still had guns, Anderson approached the man slowly now and gently put a hand on his shoulder. David had been prepared that it may not achieve anything or that maybe Sherlock would hit him, because he didn´t want to be touched by an “idiot” but to his surprise the only reaction Sherlock showed was turning towards him.

 

Anderson tried to smile and took a deep breath. This could be a good sign. Maybe Sherlock was slowly coming out of his shock.

 

“Sally is in hospital, let’s go there as well.” He said but the consulting detective didn´t say anything and continued to stare at his hands again.

 

David sighed, unsure what to do now, but then he got an idea. As gently as he could he took Sherlock´s right arm and started to drag him towards the door. “Come on, lets get you cleaned up first, there is a bathroom near the hall.” he told the man and to his luck Sherlock started moving.

 

A few moments later they were in the dirty, run down bathroom of the factory. It didn´t look too inviting but Anderson was actually glad when it turned out that the tap at the sink was still in running order.

 

So he turned on the water and gently started to clean Sherlock´s hands. Since there was no soap in the bathroom, the water had to be enough for now, but it was better than nothing. Sherlock didn´t make a single sound the whole time but it was clear he was grateful to get the blood off his hands. Anderson didn´t say much either, and it was John Watson who broke this strange silence when he found them about two minutes later.

 

“Sherlock? Let me check you over.” The Dr. said and so Anderson helped him to lead Sherlock outside where two ambulances were already waiting. While John put Sherlock in one of them, Anderson went over to the other, in which Sally seemed to be sleeping now, while Mycroft Holmes sat next to her, holding her unharmed hand.

 

“She´ll be all right. The blood loss wasn´t life threatening and I already have specialists working on the hand injuries.” The older Holmes declared and Anderson thanked the heavens for that, even though he knew the physical injuries were the smaller part in this. He nodded at the older man, turning around to look at Sherlock and John once more.

 

“Mr. Anderson, I want to thank you for...”

 

Anderson held up his hand “Not for that.” He shook his head. “Not for that. “

 

#

 

When Sally Donovan woke up again, it took her a few moments until she realized where she was. Her head was swimming and yet she didn´t feel any pain. Taking in the surroundings she realized that she was in a hospital, probably heavily drugged, as the infusion attached to her healthy hand seemed to indicate, while the other was bandaged thoroughly.

 

As she turned around she saw that Anthea was sitting next to her. “Myc says hello.” the assistant smiled. “He would have been here, but the Prime Minister wouldn´t wait for a third time. But he´ll be back later.” Handing her a glass of water from the table next to her, Anthea seemed to be relieved to see her. “You gave us quite a scare you know? You were unconscious for longer than the docs anticipated due to you reacting to one of the narcotics.”

 

Sally just nodded, not sure what to answer. She still had to order all of the thoughts in her head. Last she remembered there had been Moran and Sherlock and then. Oh god. She shuddered at the memory.

 

“Sherlock?” She asked and Anthea smiled again as the door to Sally´s room opened to admit John Watson.

 

“Sherlock is okay. He is probably right on John´s heel is he?” She said directed at John and the Doctor laughed.

 

“Well he has been the whole day. He just told me he was going to get something, so I think he´ll be here soon. We came as soon as Anthea said there were signs that you were waking up. How do you feel Sally?”

 

Sally smiled back, glad for the company which helped to chase the memories off. “Weird actually. High as a kite but glad there is no pain. But I´m okay or at least I will be.” She swallowed and looked at the door. Still no Sherlock. That was weird. But he would come soon, wouldn´t he? She needed to see he was all right after this.

 

They talked for a while. John and Anthea told the injured Sergeant, that there was always someone at her bedside the last two days waiting for her to wake up. It had been Mycroft mostly but Sherlock had also been there for a few hours at the start and John and Anthea as well. Anderson and Lestrade had looked in, wanting to know how she was and there were gifts from her colleagues at the Yard and Mrs. Hudson´s cookies that she liked so much on the table next to her bed.

 

John and Anthea assured her that her hand would be all right. Specialists had apparently operated as soon as she had reached the hospital- courtesy of Mycroft´s connections she supposed. It would take some time, lots of physical therapy and maybe one or two more operations but she would get the full movement of her hand back. Sally felt a huge rock drop from her heart as she heard that. Okay, restricted movement of one hand wouldn´t have destroyed her life, but she was glad she didn´t have to face that. There would be a few scars left, sure, but according to Anthea the doctors had tried to take care of these as well.

 

Sally felt mostly relief when she heard that Moran was really dead. Having to face him in court, that was something she didn´t really want to do at the moment. She still couldn´t believe he had known about Sergej and their childhood traumas.

 

How could he have known? Mycroft had said he had destroyed all the case files, but still. Maybe someone of his people had talked, Sally guessed.

 

That, and Moran had deceived the MI6 for a time, so who knew what access to secret files or high clearance information he had secured.

 

She probably really didn´t want to know, she told herself.

 

The guy was dead damn it.

 

It was over.

 

Forever over. Done.

 

That left Sherlock. She looked at the door again. Still no Sherlock in sight. Maybe he didn´t want to see her? Or had he just forgotten about her because there was a new case or something similar?

 

John caught her gaze at the door and shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea. He was there the whole time when I went to check on you and even went alone one time last night when I was asleep. The nurses were pretty pissed about that one, no visitor hours at night time.” He laughed slightly and Sally tried to laugh with him. That was typical Sherlock.

 

“Maybe he´ll come later.” she answered and John nodded although he didn´t seem to be sure either. “Just tell him I need to see for myself that he is okay, will you? He´ll probably roll his eyes and lament about my silly sentiment but I don´t care. I just... I don´t know.”

 

While Anthea patted her arm, John looked at her. “I understand Sally.” he said and she saw in his eyes that he really did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to the lovely seven percent again as she is still betaing all this! You rock girl!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 

When John came home that night, he found his flatmate and lover conducting experiments on the kitchen table. Part of him wanted to shout at Sherlock. Why the hell had he run off again without telling him?

 

Had he forgotten about visiting Sally? He had seemed relieved when he had gotten Anthea´s texts that Sally was slowly waking up.

 

And yet-

 

Maybe Sherlock just needed some time, John told himself. After all these two had faced together, maybe he needed to order his thoughts, go to his mind palace, organize the data, or something like that. And his feelings, with regard to his new more intimate relationship with John, which to Sherlock were still new in many aspects.

 

Yet, that also brought him to John´s fear that Sherlock was running away. Maybe he was scared to face Sally? It would be understandable, but no solution, no matter how much Sherlock believed this. He told himself he would find out. Gently.

 

And then he would carefully make sure that Sherlock wouldn´t run away.

 

Walking over to the kitchen table he watched his friend playing with his tubes and Bunsen burners for a while. Sherlock seemed totally emerged in his work, and yet John could tell that Sherlock had realised that he was in the room with him.

 

“Sally missed you, you know?” he announced, but the brown haired man didn´t answer. “ She wants to see you. And I think you should go and visit her soon. She´ll be out of the hospital tomorrow and then she´ll stay with Mycroft´s.”

 

Nothing. Not even a raised eye brow. Or a huff.

 

“Sherlock!” he grumbled now, louder this time which made the consulting detective stop in his tracks and look at him.

 

“John, I don´t have time for sentiment at the moment. You should go to bed already, I need to finish with these important experiments.” With that he rushed into his room, where, John followed. He was apparently searching for another concoction or whatever he needed for the experiment as he was rifling through boxes of different sizes, muttering something to himself.

 

John tried to talk to him one more time and told him he´d be there if Sherlock needed to talk, but as Sherlock ignored him again, he decided to go to bed.

 

Maybe he really needed time. At least he hoped so. Sherlock hadn´t talked much after they had found them, but he had refused to leave Donovan´s side the first day she had been unconscious and fallen asleep in John´s arms on the spare bed in Sally´s room. A few hours later he had done the exact opposite and couldn´t seem to get to Baker Street fast enough “to go back to work” as he said. Physically Sherlock was fine, he had been a little dehydrated due to the drug and had a few bumps and bruises, including the wound on the arm where they had taken the tracker out, but John was sure his mind wasn´t. It wasn´t even hard to tell as Sherlock simply seemed to behave oddly.

 

Trauma did that to people and no matter how great the mind was, it could always be hurt. Even if Sherlock insisted otherwise.

 

That night John waited for Sherlock in his bed but he didn´t come. So he worried instead and listened to his boyfriend wandering around and conducting experiments in their living room. Last night Sherlock had at least come into bed to lie down with him for a few hours, though he hadn´t slept much. Then some time when John had been asleep, he had gotten up again to pay Sally a nightly visit at the hospital, as John had heard today.

 

Only to not actually visit her when she finally was awake, after being unconscious for two days. It was odd.

 

Sherlock was odd.

 

Well, odder than normal.

 

He had been glad that Sherlock finally had found another friend, even if it had been really weird that it had been Donovan. Hell, he had been a little jealous at first. But that had gone away once Sherlock had become his boyfriend. Which strangely had also been Sally´s fault.

 

 

**_Sometime in early November..._ **

 

_It had been a long day at clinic. The flu period was upon them again which meant many patients and often agitated ones at that. John had been exhausted and therefore only slowly walked up the stairs to the flat. Looking forward towards some warm tea and a quiet evening in front of the telly he had heard Sally and Sherlock laughing from downstairs already. So Sally must have come to say hello after her shift, he thought, and was glad she had as it meant 2 hours less of boredom for Sherlock. Which were actually two hours less of him getting strange ideas, that often ended up in damaging the flat in some way. John was about to go through half-open door as he noticed a change in the atmosphere of the conversation. Sally and Sherlock were talking quietly now, obviously not fooling around and he couldn´t help but listen in._

 

“ _Yeah, but that doesn´t change anything, Sherlock. The feelings don’t go away like that. I get you are scared, but why don´t you try and make a move?John feels the same, I swear.”_

 

_He felt what? Wait a second._

 

_A snort from Sherlock. “I told you I´m married to my work, I don´t have time for such things.”_

 

_Sally laughed at that. “No, you are scared. Be honest, being together with John scares you more than any criminal could ever do.”_

 

“ _I don´t see why you can´t comprehend that there is no appeal in relationships for me. I´m...”_

 

_A sound of glass. Sherlock tampering with stuff on the kitchen table again, John supposed._

 

“ _Bullshit.” Sally intercepted, much louder now. “ You do well in relationships already. Don´t look at me like that. It´s not just you and John. You have friends, Sherlock, more than you think you have and you enjoy that. Don´t pretend otherwise. So listen to one of them and go and simply kiss John. It will make life better, believe me.”  
_

_“My life is already...”_   
  
_“If you are going to say that your life is already good the way it is, than I´ll promise you I´ll make you sit through Anderson´s next forensic course at university.”_

 

_John nearly laughed at that, imagining Sherlock´s face hearing that. Knowing Sally, she would find a way to do that, even if she had to cuff Sherlock and lock him up in the teaching room for that._

 

“ _Maybe you should go and let me work in peace.” Sherlock was grumpy now and John decided it was the time to make himself known. He went down the steps again, opened the front door to let it fall close loudly, all the while calling. “Sherlock? You home? How about take away?” as he was going up. He also feigned surprise at seeing Donovan which strangely worked. Since they were still so caught up in their argument no one seemed to notice._

 

 

 

They had ordered Indian takeaway that evening and Sally had stayed for few hours longer to chit chat and tell hilarious stories from crime scenes. All the while John´s thoughts had been racing inside his head. Was Sally actually right and Sherlock was feeling that way for him? Or was she just imagining it? But maybe she was right, maybe one of them needed to make a step so that they could at least talk about it?

 

One day later when he came home from the clinic he had decided Sally was right and had done it. Without much preamble he had walked up to Sherlock as he arrived home and kissed him. For a second the consulting detective had seemed stunned but then kissed back. As they needed to breath again he had simply asked: “So you heard Sally yesterday?” And they had kissed again. It had been weird how simple it was.

 

Sherlock had even sent Sally an SMS soon thereafter and she apparently had shouted “Yes!” just as Anderson had describes how the eyes of a victim had been gauged out with a spoon, as Lestrade had told later. Well, she would never live that one down and John was still laughing about it. Especially since she always used to taunt them for laughing at crime scenes.

 

But all in all the kiss had been the start of a great relationship. At first Mrs. Hudson, Mycroft, Sally, Lestrade, and a bit later Harry and Molly, had been the only ones who knew, but John could understand that and didn´t mind.

 

Especially since it had turned out that Sherlock liked to kiss. A lot. But only behind closed doors, which John had suspected as he had been raised like that with parents in the MI6.

 

But he was fine with that. Really.

 

Then Moran had appeared in the picture again and Sherlock had become even more careful. It had been eerie to see him like that. Sherlock never had been scared of anyone, but of this man he seemed to be and John had tried to talk to him about it. But neither he nor Sally could get out of him what had happened in Italy before the explosion. He had gradually calmed down a bit after a few days, but now?

 

Now he wasn´t talking at all. And he was distant and seemed to become more and more so. Come to think of it, he had let John give him kisses and hugs but except for the night directly after they had freed them, Sherlock hadn´t initiated any physical contact since yesterday. That thought made John worry even more.

 

He had talked with Mycroft this afternoon; he had said that it might be good to give Sherlock some space. “He is used to dealing with problems alone , John. Wait a few days, then try again. The more you corner him, the harder he will repel you. Trust me, I know.” And that had been that. So John had tried to talk to him tonight and gone to bed, but it wasn´t easy.

 

Exhausted he finally fell asleep close to 4 in the morning, and for once stopped actively worrying . He had been tired as hell, as he had been awake most of the two previous nights.

 

When daylight woke him about 6 hours later, it was all silent in 221b. Wordlessly praying, John was hoping Sherlock had simply fallen asleep, but of course reality in the form of a notice on the kitchen table told him to not assume things like that.

 

“Good morning John. Have gone to Brighton for a few days. An interesting new case. Mycroft will probably be able to fill you in as he is in no doubt meddling again. Will be back soon. Love, Sherlock.”

 

Good morning? Love? There was nothing good about this morning!

 

“Bastard.” John cursed, although he knew said man was probably not doing it on purpose.

 

But being left behind hurt, damn it.

 

 

#

 

It was already late in the afternoon when Sally entered Mycroft´s house. Again it had been Anthea who came to get her, which made her a bit weary. She had seen Mycroft three times since the kidnapping now and could tell something was off, no matter how many times Anthea told her there wasn´t.

 

“He´s really busy at the moment, Sally. The crisis in the middle east is taking up his time and he postponed some meetings when you were gone. Give him a chance, will you? He´ll be here any minute now.” Anthea had pleaded and Sally had nodded. Of course she would.

She loved him. This was something that had made itself know even more deeply when she had been in hospital. As surprising as it was, she loved the damn git and she wouldn´t let Moran destroy that, or the relationship to his little brother whom she had become to love in a different way.

 

If someone asked Sally, she was close to describing it how woman sometimes talked of love in the schmoopy movies. But it felt right. Her together with Mycroft. Her being friends with Sherlock and slowly becoming friends with John and Anthea, it felt like it was supposed to be. And yes Sally knew how bonkers that sounded but for first time in her life Sally felt like she was at the right place in her world and she would fight for it, damn it.

 

It took two minutes until Mycroft entered the room. Apparently his car had been right behind them and Sally was grateful to see him. It felt even better to fall in his arms and just sit close together and that´s what they did for a few minutes.

 

“Do you feel any better?” Mycroft enquired and Sally nodded.

 

“I´m okay. It´ll heal Mycroft.” She smiled at him. “The only thing that bothers me is, that Sherlock is running away from me. I don´t blame him, Myc. Hell, I would have done the same if roles were reversed. Maybe you can poke him a bit? I´ve tried phoning him,but the number I have is dead. Maybe I should go to Baker Street tonight? He can´t run away then, if I check with John before and...”

 

A long sigh made her stop. “That wouldn´t be of any use, Sally. As of this morning Sherlock has travelled to Brighton.”

 

“What? But I reached John at Baker Street. What the...?” She didn´t get any further as Mycroft was answering already.

 

“Sherlock has left without John, I´m afraid.”

 

That made Sally groan. “Oh the idiot. Running away. Of course.” She shook her head. “Damn it.”

 

Mycroft didn’t answer to that but it looked like he agreed.

 

Taking a deep breath she continued. “Well he can´t run forever. Maybe he really needs a few days.” She suspected that she was really try to convince herself of this, but whatever.

 

Mycroft still didn’t seem to know what to say to that and so he simply held her, but that was fine with Sally for the moment. She was glad that they had made it. They´d sort the rest out later.

 

The moment lasted only a few seconds as Mycroft´s phone started to ring. With an apologizing look at Sally he took the phone and answered it.

 

“Holmes. Yes.... no. Hm... Right. Okay I´ll be right there.”

 

That caused Sally to groan once more. Of course. They had had exactly 27 minutes before Mycroft´s work had called again.

 

“I´m sorry Sal. The crisis in the east is getting closer to being resolved but without me...”

 

Sally held up her hand, which effectively stopped him.

 

“I know. And it´s okay. Well, it´s not cause I´d love you to be here and would simply like to forget life and the damn world for a little while. But that´s not a luxury we get, I guess.” She sighed and gave Mycroft a long kiss, before he got up and left the room.

 

And there she was, once alone again, contemplating. As much as it pained her to admit: Things were awkward between them now and his absence wasn´t helping.

 

And yet she shouldn’t have been surprised after everything that happened, should she?

 

It took only two minutes for Anthea to re-enter the room. Sally had considered going to Baker Street to talk with John, but Anthea wasn´t happy with that.

 

“You are supposed to rest. You can see John tomorrow, okay? But today just stay here and take a deep breath. You´ve just come out of the hospital for god´s sake.”

 

Sally grumbled a bit and was just about to object but Anthea wouldn´t have any of it. “God, you are worse than Mycroft. Believe me, I cuffed him to his bed once, so there is no way around this.” She warned and they both laughed at this. Cause Mycroft cuffed to bed? That must have been one hell of a sight.

 

“Okay, okay, I´ll stay here.” She finally agreed and Anthea smiled.

 

“Good. Now how about we play a round of chess? You´ve started recently with Mycroft, haven´t you? I can teach you a few tricks even he doesn´t know.”

 

And that was how the early evening went. It was only 3 hours later as Sally´s own phone started ringing that their chess adventures were brought to an abrupt end.

 

Taking her phone Sally wondered why Anderson was calling her at this time of the day and picked up.

 

“Sally?” Came the voice of her colleague and she immediately could tell something was off. “Sally switch on the TV. BBC. Now.” He commanded, voice agitated, and Sally hurried into the living room to do so.

 

Once the TV was on though, she nearly lost her footing.

 

That was Sherlock on the BBC News.

 

Sherlock.

 

Live on TV, stabbing Moran over and over again.

 

“...alleged consulting detective Sherlock Holmes is shown in the footage, stabbing a man. From the likes of it we are looking at a murder charge here, Sandra.” The reporter told the news anchor and Sally watched in true horror as they talked more about the video, which apparently had arrived on the desk of an reporter this afternoon.

 

“Damn it, motherfucking damn it.” Sally couldn´t stop cursing as she tried to make sense how anyone could have gotten that footage.

 

Just when you thought it couldn´t get any worse...

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No I haven´t forgotten about this fic although I was rather busy with Ghosts and Teamwork. Anyway I wish everyone a great start into 2014! And if you like this one just give a peep and it might make me write faster. Happy reading!

**Chapter 5**

 

It had been a hell of two days and John was sure he still felt every damn second of them in his bones. Sherlock was still in Brighton, though no one had been able to contact him. 

 

Not even Mycroft. 

 

On one side this worried him, on the other he was glad that he didn´t hear anything because that also meant that the police hadn´t gotten him yet. He knew Sherlock was guilty, yes, but there was so much more to it. And he didn´t think it would be good for his consulting detective to sit behind bars, be it only for a few days. 

 

Mycroft was working furiously on how the video could have gotten out and was nearly certain it had been an inside job. 

 

Still there was no man of his which seemed to behave differently since the leak and he trusted all of them. So he had decided that he would be the one to investigate all of them, without them knowing of course. Sadly, that would take a while since they were 20 of his most trusted men in total. 

 

John himself had been trying to help Mycroft as well, by having an eye on Sally, who was still supposed to rest. Of course she wouldn´t have any of it and wanted to help, which he could understand. 

 

But if she would collapse it wouldn´t help any of them. 

 

So he tried to make up reasons why he was at Mycroft´s house but he guessed that Sally knew what he was doing anyway. 

 

#

 

Sally Donovan was bored. 

 

Bored and still furious. 

 

It had been two days since the video was leaked and they still had no idea who had done it. On top of it, everyone insisted she still had to take it easy, although she rather would have gone and helped them to catch the criminal.

 

The fact that Sherlock was still unreachable didn´t help either. According to Mycroft he had sent a text message yesterday telling them he was investigating a new lead, but his phone was untraceable.

 

So Sherlock was on his own. Nothing to worry about, Mycroft had said. He´s used to it, but neither she nor John were convinced of that. 

 

Mycroft probably wasn´t either. 

 

It wasn´t as if Sherlock couldn´t get over obstacles on his own, no, he had shown that already. It was the timing. The kidnapping and rape had just been a few days ago, damn it. 

 

Although to Donovan it seemed like it had been longer. It was Probably the way her mind tried to protect herself, she supposed. Pretend a bad event was far in the past, soon to be overcome by time or something like that.

 

Nevertheless John was watching her like a hawk the last several days. He knew all too well that she wanted to go back into action as soon as they would let her. That and it probably gave him something to do as it was obvious that he was worried about Sherlock and hated that he had run away. 

 

“Damn the freak!” Donovan thought once again, wishing she could go, get the damn git and kick his ass back here at that very moment. But of course it wasn´t that easy.

 

Well at least the police hadn´t gotten him yet, one thing she was glad about as she didn´t want him behind bars. Killing someone should have gone against her principles, but strangely it didn’t. Besides, Sherlock had been in shock when he did it. And after what Moran did to them it hadn´t been a surprise.

 

Hell, she had been in shock as well. If she had had a knife and opportunity back then, who knows what she would have done?

 

A knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts. 

 

“Come in.” she called, wondering if John, who had practically lived with her and Mycroft for the last few days, and who through her various injuries probably knew her body anyway, bothered with knocking at all. 

 

Then again he was a gentleman, so it shouln´t be that surprising should it?

 

To her surprise it wasn´t John. The open door revealed Sam Bloomfield, one of Mycroft´s men who had watched her in Russia back when they had gone after Sergej. 

 

“Miss Donovan, sorry to disturb you. But can I talk to you for a moment?” he inquired, acting uncomfortable and Sally smiled.

 

“Sam, how often do I have to tell you that you can call me Sally.” 

 

He smiled at her, but still seemed awkward and rubbed his palms together nervously. 

 

“Sure, come in. I´m just waiting for John to come back from helping Mrs. Hudson anyway, so I have time. It´s not like they let me do anything around here.” She sighed and Sam Bloomfield sat down onto one of the sofas near the small table in the middle of Mycroft´s living room. 

 

There was an awkward silence for about two minutes and Sally waited. She could tell something was off with this man. Normally he was someone who liked to joke on occasion and who always had a smile for everyone when he was working, But now? 

 

He seemed nervous. Scared even. 

 

She just wanted to enquire if everything was all right when he suddenly spoke. 

 

“I...I just wanted to make sure you heard it from me, because I have come to like you a great deal. The boss is lucky to have you. And I wanted to say that I´m sorry. I never should have...” he stopped, shaking his head as if to hold back tears and Sally could already guess the next words. Still she hated them as they came out of Sam´s mouth. 

 

“It was me. I leaked the video. I... believe me, I never wanted to do this. But he had my family. My wife and my daughter and...” He swallowed, clearly having trouble getting the words out while Sally was cursing the heavens again that Moran somehow managed to destroy their lives even after his death. 

  
“I … I know I still shouldn´t have done that. I should have known he would kill them anyway but...” Sam was shaking his head again.” I had to try, you know. I at least had to try to save them. But I never wanted to hurt Mr. Holmes. Or you. And that´s why I´m here. I wanted to tell you personally and say I´m sorry. Maybe you can tell Sherlock Holmes as well when all of this is over?“

 

Sally was shocked to say the least. But not just for herself and Sherlock but also for Sam and his family. Damn it, that meant that Moran and in extend Moriarty, had managed to hurt even more people, although both bastards were dead already. How was this possible? 

 

Taking a deep breath Sally nodded and wanted to ask why he wouln´t tell Sherlock himself as Sam continued. “ Well okay. I´m going to tell Mr. Holmes now as I don´t think they are alive now anyway. It was nice getting to know you, Miss Donovan. And even if...” He halted once again and smiled sadly. “No matter what happens now, Mycroft Holmes was a great boss. I´m proud to have worked for him, you should know that as well. And I say that even though I know what´s going to happen.”

 

With that he got up and nodded at her in farewell as Donovan was still trying to puzzle everything together. 

 

Wait. What?  


She ran over to him, effectively holding him back from opening the door. “Wait a second. What do you think Mycroft is going to do?” Her heart beat speeding up as the possibilities he implied ran through her mind.  
  
“I´m a traitor Miss Donovan. Traitor agents are dealt with immediately when found out. But it´s okay, that way I´m going to see my family again and...” 

 

Sally shook her head. “Sam, nobody is going to kill you because you wanted to help your family.” 

 

She patted his shoulder but Sam didn´t look convinced. 

 

“Tell you what, we both are going to tell Mycroft now and then we are going to investigate how we are going to get your family back, okay?”

 

Sam didn´t say anything to that but thankfully he didn´t object either.

 

#

 

Mycroft was pissed, Sally could tell. Which wasn´t a surprise. 

 

But contrary to Sam´s fears Mycroft hadn´t killed him yet. Which was no surprise to Sally but it didn´t mean he wasn´t furious with him. 

 

“So you say your wife and your daughter must have been kidnapped the day after we found Sherlock and Sally, and as you came home you were contacted by someone?” Mycroft barked so loud, that she and Anthea, who were the only others in the room, flinched as well.

 

Sam, still looking afraid as if someone was going to shoot him soon, nodded. “Yes I came home, and found the flat empty. Ten minutes later I got a text message, that if I get the video of Sherlock killing Moran on an USB stick and put it into the mail box two streets from the headquarters, I will be able to see my family again. Otherwise they are dead.” 

 

Mycroft nodded at this, looking grim. “And why didn´t you come to us then?” 

 

“The message told me that if I tell anyone they´ll be shot immediately.” Grimacing he ran a hand through his hair, before he elaborated further. “Listen I`m really sorry. And I´m also okay with the punishment. I just wanted to try and save them. I owed them that. It´s been nearly four days now and they must be dead. Probably have been dead the whole time already but...” 

 

He took a deep breath to go on but Mycroft interjected him. “Mr. Bloomfield, I have no idea why you would think that I´m going to kill you.”

 

Sam looked startled for a moment before he brought out. “But... I.. when Parson last year...” 

 

“Parson sold out to the Russian´s, knowing full well what he was doing. As you said, you just tried to save your family. Nevertheless know that there will be repercussions. Next time you come to me, and me alone before you do irreparable harm to your team. I need my men to trust me as I trust them, understand?” 

  
A nod from Sam was the only answer Mycroft got, as Sam was likely still stunned by Mycroft’s sympathetic reaction. Sally allowed herself a tiny smile as Mycroft started to grumble orders at Anthea. 

 

“Anthea, make sure Mr. Bloomfield shows you his flat and the mail box where the USB-stick with the file was deposited. Take Miller, Smith and Sanders to secure any evidence.” Anthea nodded and was off to prepare, as Mycroft turned to Sam once again. 

 

“And you Mr. Bloomfield, I need you to think of anything which could help us, anything that was different this week. Your family´s lives might well still depend on it.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 

It had taken them another few hours to find the first lead.

 

One of Bloomfield´s neighbours had seen a white van around the time the wife and the child had disappeared. She even had remembered the strange lettering on the side of it.

 

“It was a bug exterminator. I was worried the guy next door had left his trash in his flat again so that it got infested with maggots. It´s not the first time this has happened, you know?” The old lady had told one of the agents and followed up with another story about bug infestation. But then agent had already sent a text message with the company name to Mycroft.

 

And somehow it hadn´t been a surprise that it had been the cover up company which the MI6 sometimes used for his vehicles.

  
An inside job.

 

Again.

 

But Sally guessed it made sense, since there had to have been someone who helped Moran out of the MI6 Headquarters a few weeks ago.

 

“All of the vehicles have tracking devices. If we are lucky, the culprit didn´t know about the experiments we did with new ones. We just started two weeks ago and only 5 people I know of knew about this. That being said if he or she knew, he either has a high security clearance or he hacked someone very high up.” Mycroft explained, but they indeed turned out to be lucky a few minutes later.

 

“We´ve tracked the van. The old trackers were destroyed but the new ones are still working. It´s close to the eastern docks.” Anthea told them and soon Sally, John and Mycroft and a few of his men, were inside the cars, getting there.

 

John was sitting beside Sally, who had explained that there was no way she was staying behind and surprisingly both, he and Mycroft had given in pretty easily.

 

“Well you are worse than Sherlock. Stubborn as hell and you probably would have followed us on your own right, so I guess it’s easier to keep an eye on you.” John told her on the way and Sally had laughed.

 

A few minutes later they arrived at the docks and found the abandoned van. At first it looked like a dead end, until Mycroft noticed half of a kid’s shoe print not too far from the van. He deduced that the kid must have fought. While struggling the girl must have gotten part of her foot on the ground and the partial shoe print pointed north. 

 

“They are definitely near here. Let´s split up and search the parameter.” Mycroft commanded and only 20 minutes later they had found the shipping container Mrs. Bloomfield and her daughter Kyra were imprisoned in. Both of them were alive, unhurt, but more than a little dehydrated.

 

It had been nearly too easy, Sally thought, but was glad as she saw the five year old jumping into her father’s arms.

 

Whatever. She would take the damn happy ending for once. There were far too few of them lately.

 

#

 

About half an hour later Mycroft, Sally and John were on their way home again, while the agents still worked on securing the evidence in the container. Kyra and Mrs. Bloomfield had received an infusion to hydrate them and would receive another once they reached Mycroft´s house, because Mycroft had insisted in taking Sam and his family with him.

 

Kyra seemed to be fine with that, even though he was a stranger after all that had happened today.

 

“So you´re my dad´s boss?” She questioned, assessing Mycroft with big eyes and Sally had to smile when she saw Mycroft small grin at this. 

 

Smart girl. 

 

“My dad says you are nicer than his old boss.”

 

“Kyra!” Sam Bloomfield was visbly embarrassed by this but Mycroft shook his head, showing him it didn´t matter. Hell, Sally could have sworn it amused him. 

 

They drove on as Mycroft grew sinister again.

 

“I have further questions about the kidnapper.” He said. “And like I said, your actions would have ramifications. One is that there won’t be free days in the next few weeks. That doesn´t mean you aren´t allowed to see your family Mr. Bloomfield. So having them move in with us was the logical step.”

 

To Sally that translated to: Yes, I need to question them and will do so, but I will also keep them close so they won’t be attacked again. Mycroft would never have said so, but he didn´t like kids being caught in the crossfire. And from the looks of it, he had taken quite a shine to little Kyra, who had been chatting to him happily since they had gotten into his limousine.

 

It was nearly peaceful, Sally thought. If one forgot about the reason for all of this.

 

“So is your house a small one or a big one?” Kyra asked Mycroft and Sally laughed.

 

Mycroft was smiling as well. “Oh, it is quite big, I think. But you tell me, we´ll be there in about five minutes.”

 

“Cool!” came the cry of the little one and she proceeded to look out of the window to spot said house, while Anthea brought them up to date.

 

“I´m afraid they haven´t been able to secure any prints or other biological traces.” She told the adults and Mrs. Bloomfield nodded, looking grim.

 

“That doesn´t surprise me. The guy wore gloves and a mask. I could only see his eyes, but it was clear he was wearing contacts since he had bright blue eyes like I have never seen before. I tried to spot other things like Sam had told me to do in an emergency, but all I can say is that he was British,wore a black outfit and I guess he must have been middle aged. I´m sorry.”

 

“Sounds like a professional to me.” Sally commented as Mycroft suddenly shot around and grabbed Kyra.

 

“Don´t move Kyra.” he warned and took hold of the dark haired girl´s hands, while Sally and the rest of the people in the car watched alarmed.

 

“What is happening?” That was Mrs. Bloomfield but Mycroft stopped her with a “Shhh!” before she could talk any further.

 

“Kyra, you are going to give me that thing in your hands, all right? But don´t stop pressing down the button, until I have got it, okay?” Mycroft told the little girl, all serious. The little one seemed to understand as she nodded and slowly opened her hands so that Mycroft could take that something from her.

 

A few seconds later Mycroft had it in his left hand and Sally could see that it was a toy. A small plastic action figure or something like that, about 10 centimetres long. What the hell?

 

“You´ve done great, Kyra. Very good. Now can you tell me who gave you this?” Mycroft said, while he was still holding the figure like it was something dangerous.

 

“The man with the mask said I could play with it, but then he took it away again. I found it in front of the container again and liked it!” She pouted at him and Mycroft smiled while he took a deep breath.

 

“It´s okay, Kyra, I understand. But this is not a toy. Maybe you could go over to your parents?” Still pouting the little girl wandered over from sitting next to Mycroft to the other side of the limousine where her parents were. Sam immediately grabbed her and put her onto his lap.

 

“Is it what I think it is?” He inquired and Mycroft nodded.

 

“One of our experimental hand grenades, yes. Anthea, can you tell Louis to drive to the Military training facility in Greater London? We´ll dispose of it there.”

 

Anthea nodded without looking up from her blackberry. “Already done.” She said and proceeded to type furiously on her blackberry.

 

“Good. I´ll let you guys out once we are there. I don’t want to risk stopping here and leaving you alone in case we are being watched. We are just a few minutes away.” Mycroft responded, while everyone else apparently needed to take a second to take that in.

 

“So you have hand grenades that look like toys?” John was the first to find his voice again. He was clearly not amused and Sally was about to say the same. What the fuck?

 

“Yeah well, the MI6 has been experimenting with a lot of things. It´s just a prototype though. Doesn´t make it less deadly.” Mycroft replied and John murmured something under his breath which Sally couldn´t make out. She doubted it had been anything nice though.

 

But really?

 

“Do I want to know what the MI6 does with explosive toys?” She asked and Mycroft sighed.

 

“Probably not. Anthea, how long?”  
  


“Three minutes. They have freed the runway for us.” She sounded awfully calm and Sally chose to do the same. Looking at Mycroft and Sam though told her that the grenade was probably more dangerous than she thought.

 

“You plan on throwing it?” That was John, probably trying to guess Mycroft´s plan and the older Holmes nodded.

 

“Yes. The thing has a response time of two seconds and a large radius. If I hadn´t heard the click, we´d all be dead by now.” He looked over to Mrs. Bloomfield. “But don’t be afraid. Louis will drive fast enough that we are not in close proximity to the blast.”

 

To Sally´s horror Sam didn´t look that convinced, but apparently choose to say nothing. John was staring at the damn grenade like it was from another planet, while the Bloomfield´s talked to each other, obviously nervous as well.

 

Mycroft looked grim but concentrated, while Anthea seemed like nothing was happening at all. At that moment Sally admired that, while she tried not to think of worst case scenarios.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nope, I didn´t forget about the story, but real life got kinda busy. 
> 
> Anyone still reading?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there´s more ... Sorry for making you guys wait so long but poking me once in a while would help ;-) Anyway enjoy reading...
> 
> (Also yes Anderson is still called David in here and I kept it since it was consistent with the stories before)

**Chapter 7**

 

It took them another 5 minutes to the runway of the Military compound. Anthea, Sally and everyone except for Mycroft and the driver left the car there. Mycroft had made Sally open one of the windows and was kneeling onto the seat now, putting his arm out of the window.

 

“Clear.” Was the command that Anthea gave, which produced another nod from Mycroft. Then the car drove down the runway, first slow then becoming faster and faster. About halfway down the runway they could see how Mycroft let go and immediately retreated back into the car. It did take about two seconds than the loud “Bang” could be heard and the car slithered a bit from the impact.

 

It was only when it turned around and slowly came towards them that Sally dared to breath again. Damn it. She was really getting too old for this, she thought.

 

Looking over to the others next to her it looked like everyone, even Kyra, had held their breaths with her, but now the little one was giggling.

 

“Wow that was scary. Can we do that again?” She inquired and Sally could see that John had to stop himself from bursting out laughing while the others also smiled at that.

 

Mycroft, who just had come over to them and opened the car door, though shook his head. “No darling, we can´t, as this was the only one. Thank god.”

 

Yeah thank god in the heavens! Sally thought and every adult with her probably did the same.

 

Kyra though seemed a little disappointed. Especially as Mycroft told her, that next time a stranger offered her toys or sweets, she should leave them and run to her daddy.

 

#

 

Another hour later they were back at Mycroft´s. The Bloomfield´s had been put into two guest rooms upstairs, while John was resting in what had become his room again. While Mycroft had already gone straight to the bedroom, Sally and Anthea had both drank a tea to calm down somewhat.

 

Well Sally had. Anthea had offered her company and she had gladly accepted, even though she guessed that Anthea was watching her. She had had more and more nightmares lately and because of that she had often wandered around the hospital or now the house at odd hours.

 

That of course, and her subsequent tiredness, hadn´t gone unnoticed and everyone of them had offered help in different ways. They all meant well, Sally supposed, but she hated to be seen as weak and therefore she had waved them off.

 

At least nobody made her talk. They all seemed to be waiting for her to take the initiative.

 

But she wouldn´t. She wanted to forget as she had more than enough to deal with right now anyway.

Getting Sherlock home was more important. The situation with Sam´s family had been more important. She could dwell on things past and lick her wounds later she decided. Enough said.

 

Anthea usually was just around in the day but today the female agent was staying in her spare bedroom as well, as she didn´t want to head home at 3 in the morning. Y awning the woman started to head upstairs after she had put her empty cup away as Sally was still restless somehow. 

 

“You think it was an inside job? It has to be someone in the MI6, right?” She sighed and continued. “I mean who would attack their own colleagues? And worse, their children?”

 

The agent shrugged. “You´d be surprised. Not all agents stay loyal to Queen and country. I´ve seen it more than once, that money was more important. But stop worrying so much, will you? We´ll get the fucker. We always do. And then we´ll make Sherlock´s life all right again as well, you´ll see.”

 

“I hope so.” Sally wasn´t convinced yet. The whole of Britain had seen Sherlock how he murdered Moran. What would they do? Explain this as a Doppelgänger or what?

 

“It´s just a matter of time, Sally. Anyway, go and get some sleep, before the boss misses you.”

 

Sally smiled at that and told her “Good night” as well.

 

Just a matter of time.

 

She sure as well hoped so.

 

 

#

 

**3 weeks later**

 

The last few weeks had been downright awful, even for David Anderson. If the kidnapping of Sherlock and Sally hadn´t been enough already, there was also the leaking of the video of Sherlock to the press.

 

Now he should have had just one stance on this. Sherlock had killed someone, so he had to arrest him and bring the annoying freak to justice.

 

That was how it was supposed to be.

 

Now why was there doubt creeping into his mind as he found Sherlock hiding in the Yard of all places, watching in secret as Sally talked to Lestrade?

 

Well, he guessed one thing was that he couldn´t get the damn pictures out of his head: Sally lying on that table. Moran torturing her, while Sherlock had to watch. And then...

 

And the look on his face, god.

 

He had believed the freak wasn´t capable of feelings. Hell, there had been a time when Sally had agreed with him. But suddenly everything had changed.

 

Sally had told him soon after that he did care, did have feelings, but Anderson had laughed it away.

 

He hadn´t counted on fate showing it to him like this. He simply couldn´t unsee it, no matter how much he wanted to. It probably always would be there.

 

And what he had seen, were two people who had been tortured. Two people scared for their lives and in the end he hadn´t been surprised when Sherlock had acted in self defence.

 

Because that was what had happened, when it came down to it. Sherlock had been in shock and getting the upper hand against that bastard Moran, he had used his chance and had ended it, once and for all.

 

Sadly the video hadn´t shown the torture part.

 

But then again he doubted that neither Sherlock nor Sally would want anyone to see that. So showing that on live television to explain was probably out of question.

 

Still, the torture had to come up in the court case one day. There was no way around that and he felt sorry for Sally, and yes, even for the annoying freak already.

 

Nevertheless that didn´t mean that he liked the bastard. Three weeks without him wandering onto crime scenes had been great, thank you very much.

 

But that had been the only aspect which had been great. He hadn’t liked the rest where everyone had worried about the freak, as well as the fucking press going down on the Yard again. Why did everyone think that the freak was their responsibility? They were police, not babysitters for god´s sake.

 

Holding back a long sigh, he allowed himself to watch the consulting detective for a few seconds. He could see from afar that the man was tired and run down. He even had lost weight once more and David guessed he probably hadn´t eaten enough again.

 

All in all this man sometimes reminded him more of a bratty child than an adult.

 

Nothing new as always.

 

Taking a deep breath he stepped up to said “child”, who didn´t even turn around to greet him.

 

“Come to make the arrest of the year, Anderson?” the dark haired man inquired, but Anderson just snorted.

 

“That´s why you are here, isn´t it?”

 

“There´s still hope for your deductive skills it seems.” Sherlock teased, probably expecting a comeback, but Anderson didn´t take the bait.

 

“You should go to her.” he told the man instead, but the freak shook his head and Anderson was close to pushing the idiot into the room. “They are worried you know? They didn´t deserve you running like this.”

 

“I´m not running anymore. I´m here now, aren’t I?” The freak told him and suddenly was distracted as Sally took off running from Lestrade´s office straight into the toilets.

 

“She only has been back to work for a week, but hasn´t been feeling well the last days. So go to her, will you? It will make her worry less.” Anderson almost pleaded with the freak, who didn’t seem to be listening at all. Instead he stared at the toilets for a second before getting up and walking into Lestrade´s office. “Lestrade? Arrest me.” he proclaimed, offering his arms to the older man.

 

Having stayed back Anderson could see Lestrade was shocked to see the freak like this. Knowing the man, Greg was probably a bit relieved as well. And Anderson wouldn’t have admitted it, but he was, too. At least the freak was here now.

 

While every one officer in the Yard seemed to either look at or storm into Lestrade´s office to detain Sherlock, David Anderson took out his phone instead.

 

Someone had to tell John that Sherlock was back after all.

 

#

 

The warehouse was cold at this time of the year. Luckily it was still empty, cause Sally couldn´t have dealt with explaining herself to anyone right now.

 

She knew she was weird for doing this, but she had to come back to where it all began.

 

That and she needed to be alone for a minute.

 

Well as alone as one could be when she was watched by Mycroft´s bodyguards. But at least they kept their respective distances. Not like the colleagues of the Yard, or her neighbours or even sometimes friends like Anderson or Lestrade.

 

Whatever. She needed to think.

 

After a bit off wandering around she sat down on the floor and took deep breath. Just a few more moments. Then she would go and deal with all this again.

 

For now she would enjoy the silence.

 

Breath in, breath out, she told herself. Just keep on breathing. Get your head free. Forget that that damn arm was still aching from time to time, as it was just right now. Damn you, fucking Moran.

 

Breath, she told herself again.

 

It´s going to be all right.

 

The steps behind her didn´t surprise her though. Of course someone would come and get her, no matter how she would have liked some solitude right now.

 

Then again running here without telling anyone probably hadn’t been the smartest move. Especially since she already had spent an entire hour at this god forsaken place. Of course they were bound to be worried.

 

“Which one of the two sent you?” She inquired since she knew without turning around who was standing a few meters behind her.

 

“No one. I thought for a bit and kinda guessed myself you could be here. And I was right.”

 

Sally sighed, but didn´t move to stand up. “So you guessed I´d be crazy enough to come back here? Wow, you know more about me than I do myself.”

 

Silence. She was glad he didn´t make her do anything and just left her be.

 

And yet...

 

“You know this is the room where I first saw him after he supposedly killed himself, don’t you? They placed me right in front of him and when I recognized him, I thought for a few moments he´d kill me or rape me for sure.”

 

John didn´t say anything to that so Sally went on.

 

“Of course he didn´t do anything like that. But he still was a right git, you know?” She couldn´t help but smile a bit. “He was just Sherlock. Pompous ass, as always. Bossing me around. And then... so much changed. I was glad that it did. I liked him as a friend. I like you and Anthea. Mycroft. Everything was okay somehow until Moran.”

 

A deep breath as she didn´t want to cry right now. She had enough of crying, damn it.

 

“And Moran, that went worse than I would have ever had imagined. But still I don´t regret it, even though it probably did make me a target. And you don´t regret getting to know Sherlock either, I believe.”

 

Nothing. She took John´s silence as agreement.

 

“And now he is back. Finally. I hoped so desperately that he would be okay, that I would see him again. And yet, I´m sitting here rambling, having run off before he even had a chance to see me and... I don´t know...”

 

She shook her head and heard him come up before he settled down next to her.

 

“It´s okay Sally.” He put an arm around her and she smiled in response. God she was glad he was here. Maybe running away to deal with it alone hadn´t been such a good idea after all.

 

John though seemed to know that Sherlock coming back wasn´t the only thing which had led her here. “What is it?” he asked silently and Sally nearly laughed. She should have known, shouldn´t she? They had all learned a lot from Sherlock in the way of deducing others. And she probably was giving all the signs of desperation right now.

 

“Sally, out with it, whatever it is.” he tried again and Sally nodded.

 

“I wasn´t feeling well this morning and I...I´m pregnant.”

 

There it was. Another bombshell.

 

John nodded. “Yeah I feared that when I heard Lestrade telling me that you had been sick again. You know we talked the possibility in the hospital, as I couldn´t give you anything when you were unconscious in fear it might damage your body further and risk putting you into coma and it was too late after.”

 

“Yeah I know.”

 

John smiled. “It´s not that bad you know. It´s your decision. If you don´t want to...”

 

She held up her hand which made him stop. “No, it´s not that. I just needed to think for a bit. And Sherlock coming back exactly a few minutes after I made the test on the toilet of the Yard...”

 

John chuckled and Sally nearly chuckled with him. “He always has the best timing, hasn´t he? It´s like he knows. But you are not afraid of him or Mycroft, are you? They won´t have your head, whatever you do. But maybe you should talk to them? ”  
  


“No...yes. I mean, I think I know want I want to do already.”

 

John looked a bit surprised, but smiled at her, so she went on.

 

“I am ... You know, everything Moran and Moriarty brought us was bad. They wanted to hurt us, take us down, especially Sherlock, and they succeeded. All the way. “ She sighed and shook her head. “But what if there is also a good thing to come out of this? What if we take this and make this something good? Cause a child never should be seen as something bad. Even if it came to be under these circumstances.”

 

Another deep breath. “I can´t see me as a mother though. But well... Suppose we all have to grow into roles sometimes don’t we?”

 

It was eerie to see how calm John was. He just continued to smile at her and somehow that calmed Sally down as well. “Can you imagine Sherlock changing a nappy?” he asked.

 

Looking at each other they both burst out laughing.

 

“Oh yeah he probably will turn it into an experiment, using the excrements to determine what the baby has eaten before or whatever. That or he´ll run.” The imagination alone sent Sally into more laughter, but then she grew serious after a few seconds. “But you know what? This baby is going to have some kickass parents. And if it wasn’t enough there will be four of them.”  
  
She turned to John. “Well if you want to, that is.”

 

John looked at her incredulous. “Do you really have to ask?”

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to seven percent for beta reading!

Of course Sherlock knew. Talking to him was weird anyway after running away like a child, but she shouldn´t have been surprised. At first she asked herself if he had some kind of secret pregnancy radar. If he knew about some unconscious signs she apparently had sent out, showing him her condition, but Sherlock had laughed.

 

“Well it wasn´t that hard. I saw you running into the toilet with your hand at your mouth. Anderson said you hadn´t been feeling well the last days, so I added two and two together.”

 

Okay that sounded reasonable, she guessed.

 

“So you are keeping it?” He asked and she nodded, not sure what else to say. How would he react? She would raise it alone, yes, but she wanted all of them to be a part of it.

 

To her surprise Sherlock simply nodded. “Good.”

 

And that was that.

 

The rest of the conversation was mostly small talk as Sherlock´s especially assigned guard came back at that moment. Apparently the higher ups of the Yard were afraid of Sherlock breaking out just after he had admitted himself, so he had special people watching him in his prison cell. And Lestrade could only keep the prison guard occupied for so long. Sally found that prospect laughable. Of course he would let himself be arrested and then run again? What a load of bullshit!

 

But at least they did have a few minutes.

 

Yet, Donovan was still a bit pissed that Sherlock had walked into prison that freely. How were they supposed to clear his name when he was sitting here, unable to help?

 

But Sherlock told her it would be all right and that he was showing good intentions with being here. She didn´t say it, but inside Sally feared he might have been giving up already.

 

#

 

Greg Lestrade was tired. And that wasn´t that surprising as it had been a long day. First Sally had been sick again and only a second later Sherlock had appeared in his office to get himself arrested. Sally had run off, the Yard had gone crazy on seeing the alleged murderer Sherlock Holmes and to top it all the press had gotten wind of Sherlock turning himself in a few hours later.

 

It had been a madhouse to say the least, and Greg was about to take his third dose of pain medication for the headache that had appeared during the day as John entered the office.

 

“So you are leaving?” he asked the doctor, who simply nodded.

 

“Yeah, apparently visitation time ended just three minutes ago at seven sharp.”

 

Greg sighed, rubbing his forehead. “So Marsterson is taking the piss out of you?”

 

A nod, while John sat down onto the chair in front of Greg´s desk.

 

“It´s not surprising though, he and Sherlock never got on. Sherlock thinks he is jealous of our case solving rate and has suspected him of being corrupt, though he couldn´t prove anything. Of course the higher ups would pick him for the first shift of watching Sherlock. Just our luck.” he took a glass of water and took the pill he had gotten out of the cupboard. “You could come back later though, I think Gregson is up next and I think he even might let you talk to Sherlock alone for a moment.” 

 

John shook his head. “No it´s all right. I´m knackered and need to check on Sally.” He let out a sigh. “And Sherlock is holding back anyway. I just had an hour of small talk with him, even the few minutes when you came in and talked to Marsterson. Small talk with Sherlock Holmes, can you imagine that?”

 

Greg shook his head.

 

“He talked about the goddamn weather for christ´s sake. And I still can´t believe he didn´t come to see me before the arrest. We´re together. I love him but now it seems like he simply shook it off. Or at least he pretends to, cause I don´t believe...”  


John didn´t any further as a loud commotion outside Lestrade´s office distracted them both. There was shrill screaming, bumping and fighting noises and it took only a few seconds until John and Greg were up and out of the door.

 

In the hallway the sight wasn´t what they had anticipated. Sergeant Smith and Constable Wilson sure as well were trying to hold down an attacker while said one was fighting, kicking, biting and cursing like a sailor.

 

But it wasn´t like a man like they had expected.

 

Responsible for the commotion was a woman, which also wasn´t that surprising. It was more the fact that she looked like she was at least 80 years old, that nearly led John to mutter “What the fuck?!” when he saw her.

 

Like this day hadn´t already been weird enough.

 

#

 

Back at Mycroft´s house telling him about the pregnancy was also easier then Sally had imagined, but no less awkward. He, too, of course had suspected already. Probably even earlier than John and she shouldn´t have been surprised. He had simply smiled at her and reassured her that he would be there if she wanted him to and she was glad about that.

 

Nevertheless they all knew it wouldn´t be easy, no matter how much they pretended it to be. If the family constellation and it´s conception wasn´t strange enough, the kid would have to deal with the fact that one of his dad´s would be the British Government and a secret service agent, and the others a consulting detective and his sidekick doctor- both prone to danger.

 

Not to mention she didn´t intend to stop working at the Yard herself as she simply couldn´t imagine herself as a stay at home mum.

 

But they would deal with that once it came to that. Now they still had to deal with the threat here and now.

 

“I keep coming back to the fact that the one who leaked the video has to be inside the MI6, but I couldn´t find any real clues.” Sherlock had told her before she left and she had nodded as Mycroft hadn’t been able to find out more either, even until today. Sherlock had said to Lestrade, that he had come back when he had hit one dead end after another, tired of running she supposed.

 

At least he was back with them in London again.

 

Now if he would have stayed hidden...

 

Shaking her head she followed Mycroft into the living room to get dinner. It had been an eventful day and John would be back soon as well. He had arrived when she had left the prison and was visiting Sherlock in his cell as long as he was allowed to. She felt a bit for them as they probably wouldn´t get any alone time as Lestrade couldn´t play his trick too many times, but the pregnancy had been important. She couldn´t have imagined not telling him and keeping it in. It would have made her crazy.

 

No one at the Yard but Lestrade knew, though. She would have to tell them soon enough. And for that they needed a story, cause there was no way she was telling the truth to her colleagues.

 

But that would have to wait anyway.

 

As they entered the room they saw that Kyra was already there, playing in front of the table and Sally and Mycroft greeted her and sat down to wait for the others. After so many weeks of observation they had started to eat together with Kyra´s parents and some of the other of Mycroft´s men sometimes. Sally had grown to like some of them and Mycroft had agreed that it would boost morale, but she had suggested it for Kyra´s sake as well. Taking dinner together gave at least some routine to the little one in this still chaotic situation. And it made herself calmer as well, even though Sally wouldn´t have admitted that.

 

It took a few minutes but then Kyra´s parents joined them as well. Dinner would be ready in 20 minutes and she hoped John would be home by then, but otherwise they would simply keep something warm for him. Conversation went to what Kyra´s mum and Kyra had done for today and Sally found herself relaxing after that weird day as the little one told her how she had explored the attic of the house.

 

“It would all be okay.” She thought. 

 

It had to be.

 

#

 

Before anyone could react to the strange tableau the old woman started screaming again. “I want to see Sherlock Holmes. It´s of utmost importance.” She bellowed and tried to shake the officers off.

 

Lestrade´s look immediately went to over to him, but John was puzzled. “Do you know her?” He asked.

 

John could only shake his head. He had never seen this woman in her life.

 

“I need to see Sherlock Holmes.” 

 

Louder this time, which made John want to put his hands over his ear. How could a tiny old woman be so loud?

 

Lestrade was already walking towards her. “Hey. It´s ok. Everything is all right.” he reassured his arm stretched out but the woman just glared at him. “I´m afraid you can´t see Sherlock, but maybe I can give him a message...?”

  
He didn´t get any further because the woman started wailing even louder, evading the officers, who were as startled from her even louder cries, as John and Lestrade were as well. The whole staff of the Yard actually came running to look what was happening and soon five more officers and Sergeants were in the vicinity.

 

“I need to see Sherlock Holmes.” She cried once again, attempting to bite Sergeant Smith who tried to catch her and Lestrade gave up, rubbing his obviously aching head as Anderson came around the corner. 

 

“Okay, I give up. Anderson get Sherlock here for a few minutes. It´s not like she is going to spring him, right? And the rest of you lot go back to work. I want to go home some time today and maybe if she gets her wish it´ll be a whole lot of faster.” 

 

As if Greg had found an off switch the screaming immediately stopped. The old woman nodded and let herself be led into Lestrade´s office where she sat down on a chair in front of his desk.

 

#

 

Anderson had been on his way home when the screaming started. He´d actually gotten all the way to the elevator before his curiosity got the better off him and he went after the noise. He couldn´t have been more surprised when it was an old lady who was giving several officers a run for their money.

 

What the hell?  
  
As if he should´ve already guessed it, she demanded to see Sherlock.

 

Of course.

 

Why was he surprised again?

 

Shaking his head he followed Lestrade´s command and went to get the consulting detective. When he was at the door Marsterson of course wasn´t happy with the disturbance but as he had no choice he went to open the cell to get and cuff Sherlock as Anderson watched.

 

Sherlock still looked tired, he thought. He had been lying on the small bench of the cell covered by a blanket when Marsterson had grabbed his shoulder. Anderson had no idea if he had been asleep but Sherlock flinched from the touch which pissed Marsterson off.

 

“Oh the mimosa doesn´t want to be touched?” He preened, grabbing one of Sherlock´s hands to cuff him which produced another violent flinch. He proceeded to shove the cuffs onto him, clearly hurting Holmes and that was when Anderson had enough. 

 

“Stop it.” He grumbled walking over to the two of them. “It´s not necessary to treat him like that.” 

 

Marsterson laughed slightly. “Oh come on, I´m not doing anything.” He laid a hand on the cuffed Sherlock´s shoulders now and produced another tremor, despite Sherlock´s obvious trial to suppress it.

 

“You know he doesn´t like to be touched.” 

 

“ Does he? It´s not like I´m hurting him...” Marsterson grimaced and before he could grab Sherlock once again, Anderson took the consulting detective´s cuffed hands and led him out of the cell.

 

“We are going to be right back anyway. Just a few minutes.” He told Marsterson and with that they were out of the room, Anderson dimly noticing that Sherlock didn´t seem to flinch at his touch. 

 

For once he was glad for that.

 

#

 

It took only a few minutes until Anderson arrived with Sherlock and John had to take a deep breath, seeing his lover in cuffs again. Sherlock looked so tired and worn out that he wished he could take him home, but that wasn´t a choice and John cursed the heavens for that.

 

Just as the consulting detective entered the room, the old woman already stormed towards him. “Sherlock, my boy, there you are. Listen you need to get to Sally. She needs you.”

 

Huh, what? The whole situation seemed to make John´s headache even worse. How the hell did this woman know Sherlock and Sally?

 

“Mrs. Tumbleton?” Sherlock actually looked a bit unsure for a second as Lestrade was already by the old lady´s side, trying to get her to sit on the chair again. 

 

“You know her?” he asked leading her to sit down once more. “And she knows Sally?”

 

Sherlock sighed and looked even more tired. “Yeah I did. That´s Mrs. Tumbleton, a former neighbour of Sally´s and a friend of my grandmother. I met her when we had the case in the Smithson retirement home. Hadn´t seen her in over 20 years actually.”

 

Mrs. Tumbleton though was having none of this. “Sherlock Holmes. Will you for once listen and get to Sally? She is in danger.”

 

When John and the others looked at him questioningly the consulting detective shrugged. “I have no idea. She already told me that at the retirement home. Hell, even when I was a kid actually. She seemed to think Sally and I are connected. She has advanced dementia so I wouldn´t...”

 

The old woman huffed before John could ask or Sherlock could speak more. “You are being as obstinate as your grandmother. Of course you two are bound. So take your knight” She nodded at John to his surprise “... and the law man” a nod at Lestrade “... and go to help her. You will regret it your whole life otherwise.”

 

While John was rubbing his temples now, hoping things would make sense, Lestrade seemed to be picking on something. “So how do you know Sally is in danger exactly?” he asked.

 

The woman just stared at him, all blank now.

 

Sherlock sighed. “I wouldn´t give anything to it. Sally´s safe. No idea how she knows we are friends, but I guess she picked something up at the home. People with Alzheimer´s make up all kinds of things.”

 

“You sure she has Alzheimer´s? She seems pretty clear to me.” Lestrade responded and Mrs. Tumbleton picked this moment to speak again.

 

“You know the way to the cafeteria, son?” She asked, sounding more like a scared child while looking at Lestrade. 

 

Having changed in her whole demeanour, John thought it was eerie. She seemed like a different person now.

 

Another few questions by Lestrade proved she now seemed lost in whatever world the Alzheimer was putting her and Sherlock waved her off.

 

“See. Just like I said. Can I go back to my cell?” 

 

Lestrade nodded. “Yes, Anderson get him back. I´ll call the retirement home. That sure has been an weird end to weird day. John, you should go home. Say hi to Sally from me, will you?”

 

John found himself nodding, while Anderson had taken Sherlock´s hands again to lead him out of the room. At the door though the forensic worker suddenly turned around, obviously troubled.

 

“What if she is right? What if Sally is in danger?” He questioned and Sherlock groaned.

 

“You know my brother will take care of her as much as it pains me to say that. He´d protects the people he´s fond of.” 

 

Anderson shook his head. “But what if you have to be there? I don´t believe in the paranormal and such but some things between you... It´s just a weird feeling.”

 

“It´s not like I can walk out here, is it?” Sherlock snapped and choose to wander out of the room on his own, leaving Anderson no choice but to follow behind him.

 

John groaned. This day sure made his head hurt.

 

He´d head home now and get some rest. Maybe tomorrow things would make sense.

 

But what if Anderson was right and Sherlock should actually come with him? He had no idea what he should believe.

 

And that damn fucking headache didn´t make anything better!

 

#

 

It had taken a few minutes but Anderson had managed to convince John and Lestrade. Sherlock would probably be harder but Anderson would kick him out of the cell if he needed to. Luckily Marsterson would head home in a few minutes and then it would be Gregson watching Sherlock.

 

He would be much easier to fool, since he didn´t actually hate Sherlock like Marsterson did. It was weird, but for once Anderson was glad about that.

 

Also he would break Sherlock out of prison, albeit only for a few hours. So what the hell had the world come to anyway?

 

He probably was clinically insane.

 

“That´s it!” a voice in his head told himself and he laughed. 

 

Whatever.

 

He was sure he needed to trust his gut on this, even though it wasn´t logical. But if something happened to Sally and he could have prevented it? He would regret his whole life, just like the old woman had said and he was sure Sherlock would as well.

 

So off to Sherlock´s cell he went.

 

#

 

When the doorbell chimed Sally could tell that Mycroft had been surprised as well, but probably had thought John had forgotten his key. They both had went to answer the door and were astonished by two MI6 agents in front of the door. One of them was Samson, one of Mycroft´s men, but Sally had never seen the woman and was pretty sure she wasn´t one of Mycroft´s.

 

“Mr. Samson, Mrs. Svenson, what can I do for you?” Mycroft greeted them and let them into the hallway. 

 

Mrs. Svenson smiled. “We are here for the next shift. Smith called the bureau, he was sick so I decided to sub for him.”

 

Sally could see the slightly cleft in Mycroft´s forehead and felt the same. The shift wouldn´t start for another hour and they were already here? And this Svenson woman subbing for Agent Smith without Anthea telling him first? Something was weird here.

 

Mycroft seemed to think the same. “You are a bit early for your shift, Samson.” he questioned and the agent nodded.

 

“Yes, I was at the office anyway and when I heard that Smith was sick and Svenson was appointed as a substitute by Rollins, we thought we´d head over directly.”

 

Mycroft crossed his arms and looked at the dark haired young man who couldn´t be much older than 30, his eyebrows raised “And it wasn´t because you thought of getting dinner?” He teased and Samson spluttered a bit.

 

“Well, um.... yes that, too, Sir.” 

 

Sally laughed, feeling a bit better. She knew Mycroft- and herself as well- liked Samson, and she was sure he liked working for Mycroft. That and he enjoyed the new dinner routing for Kyra a little too much, cause the food here was so much better than in the office cantine. He had as much as admitted that to Sally a few days ago and while she hadn´t told Mycroft he had probably guessed.

 

So yes everything was all right was it? She was just seeing things, which shouldn´t have been a surprise after this weird day, right? Mycroft seemed at ease again and asked Agent Svenson if she was eating with them as well, as suddenly as small, urgent hand found her way into Sally´s left one, squeezing as hard as it could.

 

#

 

Another five minutes and Gregson accepted Greg´s offer for coffee and a cigarette which left Anderson the time to slip into the cell. He walked by the two men, telling them he was looking for his ring, which might have slipped off when he was getting Sherlock and looked into the small surveillance camera which was located in the corridor close to the cells, deliberately.

 

The ring was a good as alibi as any. He constantly left it lying around when he took it off during his work as he didn´t want it to come in contact with blood or other substances they encountered. Gregson had just rolled his eyes at him and waved him off towards the cell while he and Greg went to the terrace to smoke. Technically he wasn´t allowed to leave his post but he didn´t believe that Sherlock would turn himself in only to escape again and Anderson was glad of that.

 

Once in the cell convincing Sherlock was the bigger problem. The consulting detective looked mildly annoyed when he entered and turned around on the bench, looking at the wall again as if he was sulking.

 

“I believe I said no.” he commented and Anderson sighed. 

 

“Yes, I know. But you are forgetting what I´m offering here, Sherlock. If this goes South I will loose my job and that´s probably the least problematic thing that will happen. Listen I ...sometimes I know I need to trust my and gut and this old lady.... there was something there that-.” He sighed but dared to breath again as Sherlock turned around once more to give him a hard look.

 

“You look ridiculous.” Sherlock stated and Anderson let out a nervous laugh.

  
“Yes I know, thank you.” he bit back and looked down at himself. He was encased in a thick warm jacket, complete with a scarf and a beanie which seem to cover half of his face as well. It looked a bit over the top for 5 degrees but since it was still winter nobody would really question it. “But dressed like this you will be able to duck the cameras. Just don´t look into them. John is at Lestrade´s car already waiting and Lestrade will follow, but you need to take the long route to the car, cause otherwise you´ll be seen by the cameras.” He shook his head. “Hell, what am I talking about? You know all this anyway, don´t you? You could get out of here any minute, when even I can come up with a plan in 20 minutes.”

 

Sherlock simply continued to glare at him, but he tried to ignore that and went on. “ Yeah stop glaring, I´m offering you a few hours of freedom here, why can´t you take simply it? If nothing happens to Sally, well better safe than sorry. But if... I don´t think we both could live with that, could we?”

 

Starting to remove the scarf and beanie and then his jacket he was relieved when Sherlock started to remove his shoes. It took about two minutes and then he was dressed in Sherlock´s clothes and shoes, while Sherlock was wearing his. Luckily they had a similar size even though Sherlock´s shoes were a bit wide. Anderson tried something which should have resembled a smile cause Sherlock looked ridiculous as well, but failed and looked at his watch nervously.

 

23:12.

 

“You need to be back by five because the first shifts will start at six. Knowing Gregson, he will fall asleep soon anyway and you can just sneak in. Give my love to Sally and kick the ass of anyone who is trying to harm her, will you? Oh and please don´t run.” 

 

He sat down at the bench while Sherlock huffed.

 

“I wont.” the consulting detective stated flatly and walked through the cell door, closing it before he turned towards Anderson again.

 

“Anderson?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Thank you.” 

 

Anderson found himself smiling at that but made sure Sherlock didn´t see it. Wow, he managed a thank you from his highness! “Don´t mention it. I still don´t like you, Freak, you know that right?” He teased but even to him that sounded empty.

 

Sherlock apparently choose to ignore it and walked off, huddling deeper into the jacket, while Anderson huddled himself into the blanket, so that his head couldn´t be seen. He stretched out onto the bench, mimicking sleep although he knew he probably wouldn´t find a single minute of it this night.

 

Staring at the wall didn´t seem to help either.

 

He was crazy, right?

 

No, downright insane was more like it!

 

#

 

It was Kyra´s hand that told Sally immediately that her first intuition had been right and that something was wrong. The little girl was squeezing it like there was no tomorrow, before she tried to lead Sally away.

 

When Sally looked at her, she saw eyes of fear and didn´t need to ask.

 

“It´s her.” The little one mouthed at her and at that moment Sally felt a shiver run down her back.   


Damn it!

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 

John had waited for about 10 minutes when Sherlock appeared. Part of him still thought risking this was crazy, but the bigger part didn’t actually care.

 

He got time with his lover, damn it. Most of him was still pissed that Sherlock didn´t come to him before turning himself in anyway. So now at least they could talk for a few hours.

 

And the talk was really necessary in his opinion.

 

Sherlock, the git, probably thought otherwise.

 

But he had a few hours now. He´d make him talk.

 

Well, if Sally wasn´t really in danger that is. But truth to be told he didn´t believe that anyway.

 

Cause an old woman coming to warn Sherlock like he was in an ancient kind of prophecy, the ones they always used in bad fantasy movies? No way!

 

And therefore he didn´t worry.

 

Sherlock settled down next him in the back seat and they waited for Lestrade, who took another two minutes. The inspector didn´t say a word and just started the car and John was thankful for this.

 

While Lestrade was driving John took Sherlock´s hand and squeezed, before deciding, that damn it, for once he didn´t care if Lestrade or anyone else would see. Hell, it was already dark anyway and Lestrade had to watch the street. Bending over to Sherlock he put his hand at the consulting detectives neck, tugged and put his lips onto Sherlock´s. The instant reaction was compliance, before a second later Sherlock even responded, only to draw away only moments later.

 

When John tried to kiss him again Sherlock turned away.

 

“John!” he scolded acting as if he had done something totally outrageous. 

 

“What, can´t I kiss my lover now?” John huffed and tried to get closer to Sherlock again, who seemed to try to evade him once more, muttering something which might have been “Don´t deserve...” but John wasn´t sure, as it had been intelligible. 

 

John sighed. “You okay?” He asked silently while Sherlock was still staring out of the opposite window. “If you don´t feel the same anym...”

 

“No that´s not....” it nearly came as a shout and John couldn´t help but be relieved. “I cant talk about it.” Sherlock concluded and John took a deep breath once more. It was going to be a long night.

 

Sherlock was saved by Lestrade`s “We are here.” though, as Greg stopped and started to park the car.

 

John smiled as he saw the safe house just across the street of them as he was sure that Sally would help him. Sherlock really needed a talk.

 

 

#

 

In the end Sally cursed herself because it all happened so fast. Only a second after Kyra had squeezed her hand, the female agent had produced an epi-pen, stabbed Samson with it and then grabbed Kyra, holding a knife to the little girls throat.

 

While Samson immediately went down to the floor, completely immobile, Sally and Mycroft took a step back. Her hurt hand was mostly mobile now, but it was still bandaged and Sally doubted she could really fight with it. Not that that was an option with Kyra´s life being on the line.

 

“So you think I care about that little brat?” Mycroft commented coldly after Kyra´s surprised and frightened yell had stopped and Sally had to swallow for a second. 

 

He was bluffing, right?

 

“By all means you shouldn´t.” Svenson responded casually as Kyra´s parents appeared at the door to the dinning room. They probably had been alarmed by the ruckus and Sally could hear Mrs. Bloomfield gasp, before she immediately went silent again. 

 

Svenson didn´t even seem to notice. “But Mr. Holmes we all know that you are a sentimental fool under that icy exterior of yours. Especially concerning kids. Or your bastard brother.”

 

Sally snorted at that and couldn´t help it. “So you are going to lament at us or what? It´s clear that you want me and Mycroft, right? Why don´t you just let these three go? They have nothing to do with this.” She nodded and Kyra and her parents, but Svenson wouldn´t have it.

 

“No. It sounds way better in the paper when there´s dead kid involved. A dead government official and a police sergeant don´t make big news but with a dead kid the media is going to jump on this.”

 

Seeing that Mycroft was slowly inching towards Svenson with what Sally hoped was a plan Sally couldn´t help but to respond. “So that`s what you want? Become a famous killer?”

 

Svenson laughed. “Well it´s a plus. But no, I´m here to even a score with Sherlock. He took one of mine and I´m taking the ones he cares about and make sure he gets them back piece by piece.” Turning her eyes the criminal focused a hard look in Mycroft´s direction. “Or I could just blow us all up right now, Mr. Holmes, if you don´t stop scampering around.”

 

That made Mycroft stop immediately, but Sally couldn´t help but groan. “So another Moriarty lover? Listen your boss did kill himself and...”

 

It was Mycroft´s hand which made her stop and one look at him told her what she needed to know. “Oh, you are here about Moran.”

 

A nod from Svenson. “Seems like even the Yard´s idiot finally got it. Want to tell me how Sherlock didn´t kill him?”

 

Sally had so many things on her lips about that bastard, but she choose to say nothing. She didn´t want Kyra pay the price because Svenson didn´t seem like someone with a high impulse control.

 

“So you want to blow us up?” She tried instead and Svenson smiled strangely. 

 

“Perhaps. But there are more fun ways. Now let´s go to the dinning room shall we and wait for Mr. Watson?”

 

#

 

It didn´t take long for Lestrade to park and they got out of the car. Rubbing his hands together John was glad they had found a parking space so close to the safe house in this damn cold night.

 

That meant no long walks for them in the freezing cold, thank god.

 

The three of them had just started to cross the street as suddenly their destination exploded into a bright ball of fire, the wave of the detonation throwing them onto the hard asphalt.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I know.. I´m evil...  
> Any thoughts ;-) ?
> 
> Thanks to seven percent for beta reading again.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to seven percent for being my ever rocking beta reader.
> 
> I´ll hope you enjoy this guys!

**Chapter 10**

 

His sight was still blurry and his ears ringing as John came to a few seconds later. Ignoring various aches in his body which told him that he had been knocked about but wasn´t seriously injured John tried to sit up and only succeeded on the second try.

 

The house was still burning like crazy and he couldn´t help but shake his head at the sight, not believing what he was seeing. Next to him Lestrade seemed to be in a trance as well, his right hand over his mouth in shock. He acquired a small cut over his left eyebrow but seemed to be reasonably okay and John found himself looking for Sherlock.

The consulting detective had been on his other side and when John turned his gaze over to him, he saw him jump up, obviously trying to run towards the fire. He could hear his lover muttering “No. No. No.” over and over again and with all the force left in his bones John made himself snap out of the shock he was in himself and made to run after Sherlock.

 

Barking at Lestrade to call for help he reached Sherlock before he could get to the fire and nearly tackled him down onto the pavement.

 

“Sherlock! Sherlock, damn it! Snap out of it. You can´t run in there.” He screamed trying to shake it out of him and in a way he managed it as Sherlock stilled and stared at the crackling flames a few meters further.

 

“But they are in there. If they are in there...” the dark haired man rasped, obviously still in shock and John knew what he meant. If Sally, Mycroft and the others were still in there they were most likely dead since the small suburban house was in shambles from the explosion.

 

“We need to go around the back.” Sherlock suddenly stated and was off running already before John could grab him once more. Knowing that they at least should try and see if anyone had made it out he looked over to Lestrade who seemed to be on his cellphone calling for help before going after Sherlock.

 

Running, John could feel the bile rise in his throat as the situation clicked more and more into place.

If Mycroft and Sally really were hurt or dead then...

 

No.

 

Now he had to make sure that this was actually the case first and he had to take care of Sherlock. This was no time for crying, kicking and screaming as much as he wanted to do that now.

 

Life wasn´t fucking fair.

 

Their life especially lately.

 

It took them roughly two minutes to run to the back of the house. Looking over the wall of the garden the house now looked more intact from this side as the façade was mostly still there. Copious amounts of smoke and the broken windows, filled with the licking flames on the ground floor showed that the house soon would be gone though.

 

“I can´t see anyone in the garden.” Sherlock commented, looking around furiously. “Maybe we should try and...?”

 

“No.” John barked. “We can´t go in. Even I can see that the house might collapse any minute. I´ve seen it often enough in Afghanistan believe me.”

 

Sherlock shook his head. “John I can not-” his voice croaked “- I need to know if they are in there.”

 

John nodded as the air far from them seemed to fill with sirens. At least the fire fighters were coming. They might stop the fire before it turned onto the other houses in the street, but this wasnt any consolation to him and Sherlock.

 

“Okay.” he whispered then and swung his legs onto the wall to over so that the could go a little bit closer as he suddenly spotted something on the ground where he had been standing before.

“Wait. Sherlock, look!”

 

Once it was pointed out Sherlock saw it instantly, although it was still hard to see in the darkness. He went over the wall again, crouched down and picked it up, while John waited on the wall.

 

“Sally´s earring!” Sherlock was smiling. “She lost it on purpose. She´s alive.” And with that he was already off leaving John to follow behind him just as Lestrade rounded the corner running into the alley.

 

“Firemen are here now.” he informed them out of breath and nodded at Sherlock who was looking around the ground for more clues.

 

“We found Sally´s earring. They might have escaped.” John answered and they followed Sherlock who had started to wander down the alley, looking for more clues.

 

They went exactly 15 meters north before the consulting detective stopped again and ran back to climb over the wall once more. John could barely call out before his friend vanished into the garden and he and Lestrade ran behind him to keep up.

 

“There! Yes! I should have known!” Sherlock exclaimed, more to himself, than to the others, and John was glad he wasn´t running towards the burning house but to some bushes to the left of the garden. Climbing in, Sherlock vanished again only a second later and John cursed. Why couldn´t he wait just once?

 

Just for a damn second so that they could keep up with him?

 

He shook his head and swallowed his anger. No, that wasn´t the time for this. He´d grump at him later.

 

If they survived all this, damn it.

 

A few seconds later he and Lestrade were both in front of the bushes and when they climbed in they suddenly realized where Sherlock had gone: There was some kind of tunnel right in front of them. Next to it was a heavy looking door, which must have covered it, as it looked like it was part of a tree trunk that fit right into the bushes.

 

An escape tunnel, John realized.

 

Of course. This was a safe house- it shouldn´t be surprising that there was this kind of get away.

 

Had Sherlock known about this? He asked himself as he climbed in, Lestrade following directly behind him. Probably not, he guessed, as his lover had run in the wrong direction at first.

 

Climbing down the ladder, John guessed they were about 5 meters under the surface when his feet touched ground again. He could barely see the rest of the tunnel as there was no light down there and he cursed as Lestrade came to stand behind him.

 

Well at least the tunnel seemed solid, big enough for them to be standing up in, John told himself and was just about to run into the darkness when suddenly something behind him illuminated at least a few meters of the tunnel.

 

"There are Mc Lite´s here,“ Lestrade commented and handed him one, pointing to a small shelf next to him on the wall and John was inwardly shaking his head at himself.

 

How had he missed this? The last dreadful weeks were wearing down on him he guessed. Nevertheless there wasn´t time for dwelling on this and so he took a lamp from Lestrade and they started running.

 

 

#

 

 

They had been running for a few minutes and taken a few tuns when John felt the ground rising below them. They were going upwards now, a few centimeters every meter and he guessed they weren´t too far from the exit.

 

Another 2 minutes and one turn left later he saw he had been right as he and Lestrade found themselves running out of the dark of the tunnel into the dark of the night once more.

 

Outside their view wasn´t much better. Wherever they were, there were no street lights there, and from the looks of it they had come out in some kind of park or maybe a forest. John stopped and held up a hand to slow Lestrade down as well, and his friend seemed to understand instantly.

 

Walking through the trees and bushes carefully, they made sure they didn´t produce too much noise and John covered half of his light with his hand. He wished that he could have switched it off because they still could be seen a mile wide, but the half moon didn´t provide enough light for them to not stumble and fall over branches or tree trunks and such.

 

Lestrade though, had switched his Mc Lite off and was walking carefully behind him, his presence reassuring John somehow.

 

Especially since Sherlock was nowhere to be seen.

 

Where the hell had he gone? Had he really run that much faster?

 

Or had they gone the wrong way when the came out of the tunnel? Maybe they should have spilt up when they entered this forest?

 

#

 

 

**A while ago....**

 

Sally was still trying to collect herself when they settled down around the table in the dinning room again. She couldn´t help that her hands where shaking, no matter how hard she tried them not too.

Looking around she saw that at least Mycroft was still assessing the situation as well: If they all worked together, they could overpower Svenson, she was sure of it.

 

But what if that would trigger the bomb? Should they risk it anyway?

 

The second after they sat down, Svenson threw them a pair of handcuffs each. "Put them on. Hands in front of you.“ She commanded. "Quick, or I‘ll slit the little ones throat or do something you´ll regret even more.“

 

Sam and his wife put the cuffs on immediately while Mycroft seeme to think for a second, but then choose to do so as well.

 

Sally followed their example, if not just because she couldn´t think of a way out of it at the moment.

 

"Good, good.“ Svenson said while putting cuffs on Kyra as well. The little one complied instantly, as she was still completely terrified. She even continued to stand stock still next to Svenson, when the woman rummaged through her jacket, producing as strange device which kind of looked like a grenade, but unlike one Sally had ever seen and laid it onto the table. Being the size of a black tennis ball, it had numbered buttons from 0 to 9 on it. A small red light was blinking steadily every second, telling Sally that, whatever it was, had been turned on.

 

Sally could faintly hear Mycroft take a deep breath next to her and then she knew it had to be bad.

 

"Care to explain to the class, Mr. Holmes?“ Svenson teased and Mycroft grimaced but complied, to Sally´s surprise.

 

"It´s a count grenade, especially designed for intelligence work. You arm it by pressing a 3 digit code into it. If you don´t repeat the code again in a certain timeframe the grenade will explode. The timeframe can be set anywhere between 30 seconds and 20 minutes and if you are off more than 10 seconds the grenade will explode as well. It can only be stopped by another 6 digit code the owner puts into it before he arms the grenade.“

 

He must have noticed Sally WTF? Look, so he continued. "It´s used for making people talk. If it explodes it will take at least half the house with it.“

 

Sally couldn´t help but groan which seemed to make Svenson grin at her. "Don´t you love Intelligence? They always produce so many nice things to play with. It´s so much fun.“  
  


She grinned at Sally, like she was a child who just had been given the biggest chocolate bar in the world, but Sally decided she could care less and tried to ignore her glee.

 

"Nevertheless you know what´s at stake now. So don´t try to run and wait for Dr. Watson with me.“ Svenson then said, more serious now and put the grenade into her jacket pocket of all places. Well at least they had a few minutes until she needed to press the code again, Sally guessed. The knife though was dangerously close to Kyra again, who was still standing front of Svenson, obviously terrified. Sally was just about to say something when she noticed Mycroft was moving his fingers rhythmically.

 

It couldn´t be?

  
Wait. Yes! By barely clenching and uncleching his fingers of his right hand, Mycroft was "writing“ a word in morse code. She noticed Sam observing it as well before he looked at Svenson again.

 

"So instead we wait until Watson comes here and then you blow us up?“ he enquired and Sally saw his angry outburst for what it was: a ruse to get the attention away from her and Mycroft.

 

 

#

 

 

In the end the plan was devastatingly simple and maybe even stupid, but they had no other choice anyway. Mycroft gave a sign and went for Svenson, while Sam went for Kyra and Sally started for the door to the garden, simply because the other one was blocked by Mycroft fighting Svenson. Sam´s wife understood at once and simply followed Sally, who managed to get the locked door open after retrieving the key from the shelf next to the TV- where she knew it would be. She motioned for Kyra and her mum to run outside and they immediately complied.

 

Sam was about to go back towards Mycroft but Sally shook her head. "He´ll be all right. We need your help with the entrance, you know that.“

 

She looked back and Mycroft was indeed handling himself well, no matter how he always said he wasn´t good with field work.

 

"Sam, you´ve got orders!“ She told the man as he hesitated again and that brought motion into him. Both of them ran into the garden and Sally took one of her earrings to throw it in front of the wall where it could be seen. Sam had run to the bush on the side and began searching. She hoped that Svenson would be distracted and think they had gone over the wall- it was at least worth a try.

 

If the woman ever came out that is. She hoped Mycroft would knock Svenson out and then the bloody house would explode with her whenever the countdown ended. Damn the bitch.

 

Swallowing all her fear and anger for the moment she ran over to the bushes Sam and the others were in and saw that Sam and his wife were carefully trying to lift the heavy lid from the secrettunnel. Doing in manually sucked, as according to Anthea who had briefed her when she had been in the house the first night, there was normally a mechanism for this, but the button for it was locacted in the kitchen and there had been no way to get there.

 

At least this way out had been only somthing she, Mycroft and Anthea had known about. It was much safer than to simply run out of the front door, as she still suspected Svenson wouldn´t be alone. Hell, Moriarty´s and Moran´s goons and lovers seemed to be appear from all corners so she was better safe than sorry because who knew if there´s wasn´t a firing squad waiting for them on the street?

 

She felt a bit bad for leaving Samson, but they had no choice really, especially since she had no idea if the epipen had been one of the "stun- ones“ or "kill immediately- ones“. At best they would have had to carry him, as the stun-epi pen at least lasted 30 minutes without an antidote. Sending a small prayer to the heavens she hoped he would be all right and focused back onto the task at hand.

 

With some effort they lifted the heavy lid and hid in the bushes, still careful that it couldn’t be seen from the garden. It was way too heavy for one person to lift and even with Sandra´s help and Sally´s help from her unhurt arm – as best as this was possible while still being cuffed- they still struggled.

 

Then Sandra, Sam´s wife, started to climb down. Sam kneeled down to take Kyra on his back, which must have been a bit uncomfortable since she could only hook her still cuffed hands over his head and then went down after her. Sally hesitated for a second, but then resisted the urge to peek for Mycroft and went down into the dark as well.

 

Please to god, let him make it, she prayed and was rewarded for once: She was about 3 meters down when she saw Mycroft above her, climbing down as well and let out a sigh of relief.

 

They´d be safe. She was sure of it.

 

Then only a few seconds and a meter down later she nearly fell off the ladder as the house exploded above them.

 

 

#

 

 

Sally was glad when they happened to find the way out of the tunnel only a few minutes later.

 

The air in the tunnel had been incredibly stale and it had been hard to breath. Not to mention that she couldn´t stand the darkness and the hollow sounds of their steps in the tunnel as they ran. Her arm seemed to hurt from the exertion and she willed the pain away, which of course didn´t work that well.

 

Still shaking from the explosion and the running after, she took a deep breath and looked around. They were in some kind of forrest, all really shaken but mostly unharmed. Mycroft had a bloody lip, where Svenson must have gotten him in the fight but otherwise he seemed all right. Sally wanted to ask just to be sure, but he simply nodded, probably already guessing what she wanted to know.

 

"I´m all right. I manged to knock her out and ran. We should be safe now.“ he said and she could have sworn she saw him grin for second which made her grin as well. So much for not liking leg work Mister Holmes, she thought, and vowed to tease him about it later.

 

Nevertheless their plan had worked.

 

Svenson had probably expected for Sam to do the attacking as he was the well trained agent and the one protecting Mycroft, but little did she know that Myc still trained regularly.

 

He complained a lot about field work and running but that didn´t mean he hadn´t still got it.

 

Sally was proud.

 

Grinning and not caring of Myc´s slight uneasiness at such open admiration. she listened as he told them that they wouldn´t have to go far to get to another safe house. From there they would call the MI 6, the Yard and John.

 

They started to walk north and were about 50 meters away from the tunnel as suddenly they heard something cocked behind them. Sally, who was walking in the back with Sandra and Kyra in front of her, had no time to take cover as she felt a gun pressed into her neck.

 

She didn´t need to turn around as she knew who it was.

 

Svenson.

 

That bitch had survived, damn it!

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 

It must have been only seconds later that John suddenly heard a noise coming from his left.

 

Wait, were there voices?

 

The wind was getting stronger now, coming from the north, which was left of him and, wait, yes there were voices. This time Lestrade seemed to have heard them as well as his friend tapped his shoulder and pointed his arm towards the source of the noise as well. As they carefully walked towards it the voices grew louder and John felt a shiver run down his spine.

 

"No I wouldn´t even think about it, Mr. Holmes. Move and your girlfriend is dead.“

 

A woman´s voice. John had no idea who this was, but she clearly had Donovan and that couldn´t be good.

 

About 30 meters further they could even see the woman. The Blonde, who couldn´t be much older than 30, was standing with her back towards John and Lestrade and had Sally in her grip, a gun to her head.

 

As careful as possible John and Lestrade walked closer, while John cursed the fact that today he had left his gun at home.

 

Well it wasn´t as if he could have visited Sherlock in prison with it, he remisied, and shock his head. Damn their luck again.

 

Where was Sherlock anyway?

 

Picking up a rather large branch he was about 2 meters away from her as the woman suddenly spoke:“Oh Mr. Watson, great of you to finally join us, we were just waiting for you. Now put thebranch down and get in front of me with that Inspector of yours before Sally catches a bullet, will you?“

 

 

#

 

Nearly all Sally could hear was her own breath and her heart thumping so loud it sounded like thunder in her ears. Maybe that was the reason that she hadn´t even heard John and Greg approach from behind.

 

Svenson, of course had heard them immediately and Sally cursed herself for that. Hell, how could she have not heard the woman herself?

 

While John and Lestrade walked in front of them where they could be seen, Sally tried to find a way out. What if she twisted towards the right and ducked? Maybe she would be fast enough and Svenson wouldn´t shot her?

 

Or what if she stepped on her foot and then used her ellbows, just like she had seen in a movie not that long ago? Could she risk it?

 

The woman couldn´t have any more bombs on her, could she?

 

Or maybe she should tackle her and give the others a chance to escape, no matter what?

 

Looking around she tried to assess the situation and realized that John was shaking his head at her, albeit very, very slightly. Maybe he had plan?

 

Please god let him have a plan, Sally thought, and tried to bite back a wave of panic that shot through her.

 

What if he hadn´t? What if that bitch really managed to kill her? Or even worse, kill them all and then proceeded to tease Sherlock with it?

 

Sherlock of course would have know what to do instantly. He´d never have to stall like she was doing now. He´d knock Svenson out with a smart move or probably even would have heard her coming so that he never would have gotten in this situation. 

 

Why the hell couldn´t she do this?

 

There had to be anything she could do, right? She was a cop, damn it. She was supposed to have the upper hand in a situation like this and here she was, paniking like a damsel in distress. 

 

Find a way out, she told herself and felt bile rise up in her throat as she didn´t come up with anything. 

 

She could faintly hear Mycroft, who was trying to persuade Svenson to let her go but her heart and her breathing seemed to be louder than ever. Her vision seemed to be tunneling as suddenly there was motion everywhere: Something slammed into them from the right and Sally barely had time to register that before she was suddenly on the ground. It was John who grabbed her and tucked her behind him before he jumped onto Svenson as well, helping whomever had jumped them all of the sudden. 

 

A shot rang out and Sally ducked for a second, only to hoist herself up again to see if she could help and...

 

Sherlock!

 

What the hell was he doing here?

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

 

** Chapter 12 **

 

Sally had barely grapsed what was happening as Svenson tried to get the upper hand again, the gun aiming at Sherlock now, who was still wrestling with her. Given the fact that the woman had combat training as an agent it was probably no surprise she was winning over Sherlock and Donovan was hoisting herself up to help him as John jumped onto the criminal again.

 

Svenson had been just about to shoot Sherlock and with a move Sally never had seen anywhere he twisted Svenson´s arm so that the gun pointed at herself before the bullet went out of the chamber.

 

The shot rang out seemingly even louder as the one before and Svenson twitched as the bullet entered her body through her chin, probably going up all the way up to her brain. Then she fell back dead on the ground, unmoving. 

 

Sally could hear that Sherlock and John were both breathing hard and watched as they untangled themselves from Svenson and got up. The whole scene couldn´t have taken more than a few seconds because only now she realized Mycroft and Sam were close to her, ready to jump in, both armed with thick branches to knock Svenson out if necessary. They were still wearing cuffs but didn´t look less determined than John had been. 

 

Kyra and her mum were both covering on the ground, only now looking up and realizing, like Sally, that it was safe again. 

 

#

 

It was over. 

 

Sally could hardly believe it. Part of her expected Svenson to get up at any moment and shoot at them again, but that was probably the pure exhaustion and the rush of the adrenaline talking. It simply had been too much in the last months, she guessed. 

 

Having just gotten out of the cuffs with the help of Sam using Kyra´s pink butterfly hairclip, she watched John as he went to one after the other, examining them to make sure that nobody was really hurt. Greg and Mycroft were talking about what to do now and Mycroft called Anthea from John´s phone. 

 

Sally felt a bit weird, like she was watching everything in dream-like state from the sidelines but she was sure she wasn´t freezing up again. There was nothing to be scared of anymore anyway, right? 

 

And yet she still couldn´t believe she had been so stupid. How could she have frozen up in a situation like this? 

 

She was a cop damn it! This was inexcusable. 

 

Balling her fists she tried to swallow down her anger at herself as she was sure the others would berate her later anyway and now wasn´t the time and the place to do it.

 

But yes, they would be right to be angry at her. Hell, she hoped Greg still wanted to go into the field with her after this! 

 

She needed to train harder. She would show him that something like this would never happen again.

 

While she waited for Greg and Mycroft to call the cavalry, her eyes fell on Sherlock. He as well, was standing on the sidelines, unhurt except for a few bumps and minor bruises, thank god, but uncharacteristically silent for once.

 

Just watching. 

 

Maybe she wasn’t the only one feeling a bit weird after all this, she decided, and went over to him. 

 

“Hey.” She greeted himsoftly but he didn´t seem to hear her. Afraid he might slip into shock if he kept staring off into the nothingness she spoke louder, but to no  avail. 

 

Remembering that physical contact had helped to calm him before, Sally slowly touched his left arm and when he didn´t object she embraced him in a hug. That finally got some results.

 

“Huh, what are you doing?” Sherlock asked, seemingly confused and Sally smiled at him.

 

“I´m just glad it´s finally over. Were you lost in your Mind palace again?” she asked and Sherlock shook his head, slowly relaxing into her hug.

 

“Thank you for coming for us by the way, for saving my life.” She told him, but suddenly Sherlock´s eyes went wide and he changed. His whole body went stiff and before she could do anything he pushed her away. 

 

“Hey, you all right?” She asked, trying to think if she´d said or done something wrong that could have triggered him, but came away with nothing. What the hell? She tried to get close to him again to calm him a bit, but he pushed her away once more.

 

“Sherlock? Let me...” She tried, but he shook his head.

 

“You shouldn´t touch me.” He stated and Sally halted, her hand halfway towards him. Was he having flashbacks again? Or had something happened that caused him to dislike her? Maybe he hated her now that she had been so weak just moments ago?

 

“Why?” She asked, but he didn´t seem to hear. 

 

“You shouldn´t be close to me.” he said then and now Sally was really alarmed. What the hell was going on? 

 

Taking a deep breath she took all her courage and went to hug Sherlock once more.

 

“No.” he nearly squeaked. “You shouldn´t.” He tried to evade her another time but Sally wouldn´t have it.

 

“Sherlock!” she called, taking her left hand to turn his hand towards her while the other one still tried to hold him. “What is going on? Why shouldn´t I? We are friends, remember?”

 

Another attempt to get away. Another shake of the head from the consulting detective. She looked over towards the others but Greg and Mycroft were busy on the phones while John was treating the small cut on the knee Kyra had obtained when she tried to take cover from the shots.

 

“Sherlock, talk to me, damn it.” she tried and Sherlock took a step back. 

 

This time she let him.

 

He seemed to think for a minute.

 

“I was glad it was you.” He stated and Sally was confused.

 

“What? When?”

 

“I was glad it was you when Moran...” He stopped obviously searching for words. “I´m sorry. I´m not better than him. I just couldn´t bear touching anyone..” He halted for a second time and that was when she understood. 

 

The idiot!

 

“You are saying that you were glad that Moran choose me for having sex with you right? Cause you didn´t think you could have stand to touch someone else?” 

 

A nod.

 

Sally let out a sharp breath and then went for him. “You idiot. I was glad, too, you know?”

 

That obviously wasn’t what Sherlock had expected as he was looking up from the point on the ground he had been staring at to avoid looking at her.

 

“You are not like him. You are not a sociopath either, no matter how many times you say it. Why do you think I´m keeping the baby?” Closing her arms around him again she leaned against him, willing him to relax and calm down. “So that´s why you ran off, is that it?” 

 

Sherlock didn´t have to say anything. She immediately knew she was right. “Oh Sherlock, next time talk to me, okay? Listen, you know I don´t feel anything sexually for you right? You´re like my little brother or something like that. But when it comes down to it of course I take you over Moran or any stranger. It wasn’t you that was bothering me about it. It was that Moran forced us. He raped us Sherlock. You didn´t rape me. He forced you to.”

 

Sherlock still seemed to be lost for a words, but at least he let her lean against him. “You have to believe me. Use that big brain of yours. Deduce me.” She looked into his eyes and that seemed to finally help as he relaxed into her embrace.

 

“Now can you hug me back for once? I´ve missed you, you know, and I won’t stop until you´ve hugged me back.” 

 

That got her a snort but Sherlock hugged her back and she found herself relaxing into it. Thank god.

 

#

 

They must have stood there hugging and talking for a while cause suddenly John had come over to them. 

 

“Everything all right with you two?” He asked and Sally was sure he had heard everything, but she choose to say nothing and nodded. 

 

“Yeah, we´re better now. Stubborn git here really needs to learn how to talk to others. I´ll make him talk though, don’t worry.” Another snort, then Sherlock was shaking. But this time it was from laughter. 

 

“I want to see that. You making me talk.” He teased and Sally glared at him.

 

“Don´t tempt her.” 

 

That was Greg who had also moved over to them, while the others had stayed a few meters back. They had probably heard everything but Sally found she couldn´t care less. She was glad that she finally found out what had been bothering her friend and from the looks of it, John, Mycroft and Greg at least thought the same.

 

“Anthea will be here soon.” Greg stated and it was then that Greg´s phone rang. He talked for a minute then came over to them again and grimaced, addressing them all.

 

“That was the Yard. The Superintendent wants me and Sally to report in. Apparently he heard about our involvement- one of the detectives at the fire threw him right out of his bed when he called.” 

 

That elicited a groan from Sally, but Sherlock simply smiled and didn´t seem to be bothered at all.

 

“Well I have a cell to get back to anyway. I can´t leave Anderson in there to rot. Not that that would be a bad thing....” He grinned and earned himself a poke in the side from Sally because of that. “I´m joking Sally. I never would do that to him. I must say I´m still surprised about his help, though.” 

 

Now it was Sally who was smiling. “He isn´t a bad man. You know that.”

 

Sherlock huffed at that, almost theatrically and they both laughed. Sally couldn´t believe how good it felt to see him smile again, although one also still could see the hardships of the last weeks in it as it didn´t yet reach his eyes.

 

“He´s just miffed that Anderson was right and he wasn´t.” John commented suddenly from the side and that of course seemed to set Sherlock off.

 

“He wasn´t right... he...”

 

“He believed the old lady. You didn´t.” John countered, and that made Sherlock stop. 

 

“I...” The consulting detective started but then shook his head slightly. 

 

“We need to get back.” he declared and went to off look for Anthea´s car which was just coming down the street as John and Sally exchanged a knowing look. Sally decided to ask more questions about this later.

 

Some things would never change.

 

But that was all right with them.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the last chapter chased someone off it seems. Well, I hope there are still some enjoying this stoy somewhere... it´ll be complete soon...
> 
> Oh and my never ending thanks goes to seven percent for betaing!

**Chapter 13**

 

It didn´t take that long for them to arrive at the Yard. While Greg and the others waited in the car for a few minutes Sherlock went first to get back to his cell.

 

Anthea had volunteered to get Kyra and her parents to the nearest safe house and she would be back to get them to Mycroft´s second flat near Notting hill. It wouldn´t have been big enough for the Bloomfield´s as well and Greg was silently glad about that, because he thought both sides would get more rest that way. He could understand Sally worrying about Kyra, since she loved kids and of course Sam Bloomfield had taken to Sally a lot according to John, but both of them needed to deal with their families now.

 

The meeting with the Superintendent was an affair of a few minutes, thank god, probably because it was obvious that he and Sally were exhausted. Both of them had been sent home to rest and been given the day off and Greg was glad for that as he couldn´t imagine them working today anyway.

 

After that they settled down in the small, still deserted Yard kitchen of his and Sally´s division and he began to make coffee while Sally was having some tea. It didn´t take three minutes for Anderson to arrive in the kitchen. He looked around until his eyes fell onto Sally and nodded clearly relieved which made Greg smile.

 

“You all okay?” the forensic scientist asked and there were more nods all around. 

 

“Nothing a few days rest can´t fix.” Sally smiled. “Thank you by the way for...” 

 

But Anderson held up his hand. “No thanks needed. I´m just glad you are okay. Though I want to hear what the hell happened out there. Sherlock said a house exploded and that´s why my jacket looks like this?”

 

So John and Sally told him while Mycroft simply listened and Greg distributed the coffee and put a second tea in front of Sally.

 

At the end of the story Anderson was impressed. “Wow.” he said and smiled once more.

 

“Wow indeed. We should be glad you are Team Sherlock now, shouldn´t we?” Sally smiled and Anderson groaned at that.

 

“Yeah well `team` is a bit much, okay? He´s still a git!” the forensic scientist said and Greg noticed that he was looking at Mycroft carefully, probably wanting to see what the brother might do. 

 

But he shouldn´t have worried. Greg knew that already, so he wasn´t surprised when Mycroft spoke. “We all know my brother can be rather difficult at times, Mr. Anderson. But I must express my sincerest thanks for tonight...”

 

Anderson huffed. “No, not you as well. No thanks for me doing the right thing okay?” He put in and Greg was surprised to see Mycroft smiling at this even though he hadn´t let Mycroft finish his sentence.

 

“Nope. You are so Team Sherlock.” Sally teased once again and Anderson huffed at her as if he had been mocked.

 

“More like Team Sal...” he started, but Lestrade interjected faster. 

 

“Nonsense. You have been Team Sherlock for years now. Both of you actually.” the detective teased Sally as well and couldn´t help but grin as everyone looked a bit surprised. “Oh come on. Do you really think I would have worked with all three of you if I knew you wouldn´t look out for each other in dangerous situations? I´m an old man. I value my nerves. And my life. Thank you very much.” 

 

This still didn´t seem to explain everything to the others, John and Anderson looking the most confused, and so Lestrade looked at Mycroft for help, but the man just smiled and showed for him to go on. Great. Well he had started to tease them about it and he guessed he should have talked with them about it a long time ago anyway.

 

“Well you bickered a lot. Which everyone in here can attest, I think. Gave me a headache more than often but sometimes it was fun to watch.” He grinned when Sally´s eyes went wide. “Anyway, the thing is when it counted, they stood up for each other. Remember Lance Port in 2007? The thug who had killed a couple and then attacked Sherlock as he deduced him when we came to arrest him?” 

 

At this Sally grinned to herself, finally getting all of it. “Hell yeah. I knocked him out with the back of this weird bondage whip that the guy had in his bedroom. Sherlock wouldn´t let me hear the end of it. He´d tease me that I was born to dominate.” She snorted and couldn´t hide her laughter now. “I could tell he was thankful though. Just a bit later and Port would have gotten him with the knife.” 

 

“And a few weeks later there was this racist guy, Stentson, I think, who tried to put Sally down. Sherlock heard one racial remark and proceeded to deduce the shit out of the man until he was crying.” Anderson added now smiling himself and Lestrade nodded. 

 

“That´s what I meant. You always got each others back.”

 

“Oh I remember that. I was so grateful that day cause I wasn´t feeling well anyway and that criminal made everything worse. It´s weird though, the two weeks after that we nearly talked like normal people, didn´t we? No shouting at crime scenes as far as I remember.” She reminisced and looked at Anderson, who nodded.

 

“But then Sherlock suddenly went to being an asshole again as if someone had flipped a switch. It was strange. He made me cry at a crime scene and didn´t seem to care.” Sally shook her head. Apparently she still couldn´t make sense of it and Lestrade couldn’t either to be honest.

 

“Well.” Mycroft looked a bit put out for a second, something which Lestrade had never seen before, but that moment was gone quickly. “That might have been my fault.” the British government amended and shocked everyone with that. 

 

Now all the eyes in the room were on him and Mycroft went on. “Well, about a week after the racist comment, which Sherlock had told me about by the way, complaining about what the United Kingdom had come to, I saw you.” he pointed at Sally.”... and Sherlock come out of a crime scene on CCTV. You were smiling at him, to my surprise actually laughing at something he had said, and I might have teased him about it.”

 

While everyone was still surprised at the revelation, Sally had already put her arms on her hips, and pointed a serious look at Mycroft. “And then you probably told him he was getting soft and that caring wasn´t an advantage, right?” She sighed and Mycroft pretended to be nonchalant about it,

 

“Well..” he started but Sally had already walked over to him and cuffed him on the head.

 

“Doofus.” She teased and then kissed him on the mouth before he could protest and everyone in the room laughed. Lestrade was impressed. Sally really had Mycroft under control. Not in a bad way, no she knew how to tease and take care of him obviously. 

 

It was obvious she really cared about him. And he about her. That was something he didn´t see coming back then. Nevertheless....

 

“Like I said, they were Team Sherlock when it counted, as he was Team Yarders. I´m glad you guys finally saw reason though, cause the whole shouting at crime scenes got a little bit boring.” At this Sally stretched out her tongue at him. “Hey, I was close to locking you in a room and letting you fight it out. Already had planned to take John to a pub.” Greg added and there was more laughter while Sally huffed.

 

“Yeah, you would have created your own crime scene. We would have killed each other on the spot.” Donovan responded and Lestrade couldn´t help but smile. 

 

He had missed their good hearted banter which had been really subdued due to all the worries and happenings in the last months.

 

But it would be all right now, wouldn´t it? He already looked forward to the next crime scene where there´d be banter once more.

 

#

 

John was beginning to feel the tiredness in his bones again as the adrenalin was beginning to wear off. After the rough day he had assumed he could have an early night, but a rough night had followed instead.

 

Nevertheless it was over now.

 

Svenson was dead, thank god. And with her all of Moriarty´s legacy.

 

At least he hoped so.

 

Looking around the small kitchen of the Yard, he could see the night had taken it´s toll on the others as well. Lestrade was yawning, and already having his 3 rd coffee this morning, while Sally was staring into her tea, barely keeping her eyes open. Even Mycroft looked tired as hell and Anderson looked like he hadn´t slept at all. 

 

Which was probably true since he had been a cell all night - something which John still hardly could believe. Especially since it had been Anderson´s idea of all people´s.

 

But Lestrade told him once he only let good people into his team and John guessed that the man had  been right before. His team had each others and Sherlock´s back all along. 

 

Looking over to the others and hoping that Anthea would arrive soon with some warm jackets so that Sally and Mycroft could bring them all home to Mycroft´s flat he saw Sally holding her stomach once more and sighed. It wasn´t hard to see she was feeling sick again and although morning sickness was pretty normal he had hoped that tea might help. 

 

Apparently it hadn´t worked as Sally excused herself only moments later and ran towards the toilet, her hand in front of her mouth. 

 

“She´ll be all right, the morning sickness will ease eventually.” He told Anderson and Greg who looked a bit worried and nodded at Mycroft, just before Detective Marsterson entered the room. John nearly groaned at seeing Marsterson, remembering him being an ass the day before. 

 

“Morning sickness, ey? Should have known she´s got a little bun in her oven” the man grunted and looked at Anderson. “So shall I congratulate the father? Great work Anderson.” he continued and John was so perplexed by this for a second that he could only watch as Anderson´s face became strained. 

 

“It´s not mine. And it´s none of your business anyway.” The man commented and turned away to get another coffee but Marsterson didn´t seem to understand and looked around the room. 

 

“Oh come on, she works here. So it´s my business when she got herself knocked up. But if you aren’t the father...” 

 

Counting to three and taking a deep breath, John hoped he would simply go away as he felt a headache coming on and was actually close to pun ching Marsterson in the face. Greg didn´t look too happy as well and he could only guess about Mycroft, as  the Holmes brother wore his poker face, but he guessed if Marsterson would continue like that it wouldn´t be pretty. 

 

“... oy wait, she´s been hanging a lot with Holmes lately. Don´t tell me she´s getting bastard from the Freak...” 

 

Marsterson didn´t get any further. In a move John never would have thought Anderson to be capable of that fast, the forensic scientist had turned around and punched the detective square in the face.

 

“Shut the hell up. You don´t get to talk about Sally like that.” He bellowed, while Marsterson was holding his bloody nose now. “She´s a colleague for gods sake and has always helped you and you thank her like that?” 

 

John was impressed and he could tell the others in the room were as well.

 

Except Marsterson of course.

 

“That´s assault. I´m filling a complaint!” he shouted and looked at Lestrade. “I even got Greg as a witness- you should reign your temper in, Anderson.” 

 

That was too much. Clenching his fists John was about to storm at Marsterson, but Greg was faster. He set himself in front of the still bleeding detective and stared at him. When he started to talk John was surprised because he had never heard Lestrade as angry as he was now. “I didn´t see a thing. What I did see was a man badmouthing and defiling his colleague who hasn´t been feeling well for days to begin with. You should be lucky I won´t be filing a complaint for harassment.”

 

T he other man looked a bit shocked at this response and John nearly smiled as Lestrade continued. “What do you think our colleagues will say when I tell them what just went down here? Sally is well liked. I´m sure they won’t be too happy about how you treated her.” 

  
Marsterson was shaking his head.

 

“But...” he tried, but Greg put his hand up. 

 

“I suggest you leave this room now unless you want it to escalate further.” Greg said, sounding oddly calm again and John tried to take a breath as well. 

 

Greg was right. This shouldn´t escalate further. The night had been crazy enough already and this guy wasn´t worth the effort. He was scum anyway and he was sure the other Yarder´s would hear about this and treat him accordingly from now on.

 

“I suggest you take Lestrade´s advice and leave.” Mycroft advised as well, voice sounding calm but downright creepy and John felt himself shudder as he sometimes forgot what Mycroft could do with his presence alone. “If you ever bad mouth Sally again or cause problems for her or other people in this room there will consequences you won’t like. Go!” 

 

John was relieved when Marsterson took the bait and ran out of the room, nearly bumping into Sally on his way out.

 

“Do I want to know?” She asked, still sounding tired and looking a bit green in the face, eyeing everyone in the small kitchen as if it could have been their fault as well. 

 

John couldn´t help but shake his head. “Probably not.”he advised and was glad that Anthea entered at this moment before Sally could ask further.

 

She´d hear the story soon enough.

 

For now going home to sleep was far more important anyway as they were all far too worked up to do anything else. The stint with Marsterson had cemented that even more.

 

#

 

When Sally finally entered the bedroom, she could hardly hold her eyes open. Mycroft was right behind her and while John was sleeping in the guest room, Greg had gone home to get some sleep as well.

 

They had reported the fire and assault to the Superintendent but since the case was classified thanks to Mycroft they wouldn´t need to write reports and such. To their superiors the MI 6 had taken over the case and they were reporting directly to them, which was fine with Sally because that way they´d never know about Sherlock.

 

She didn´t need to report anything to Mycroft anyway. He had been there.

 

Taking the small bag with essentials that Anthea had gotten out of Sally´s apartment, she grabbed a long T-shirt and took off her clothes. Part of her wanted to shower before bed to get the ash, grime and all dirt from this crazy night off her, but she simply didn´t have the energy left.

 

Mycroft seemed to think the same, as he had already slipped into his pyjamas, and went off to the bathroom. Seconds later she could hear him brush his teeth at least and she decided to do this at least as she hated waking with unbrushed teeth in the morning.

 

It took her about five minutes until she was in bed beside Mycroft who was surprisingly cuddly. Must have been they crazy day and the near death situations, Sally thought and cuddled closer to him as he switched off the light.

 

Nevertheless sleep didn´t come easy to her. All she could think of was Sherlock, alone in his cell and the charges he was facing. Mycroft didn’t seem to fare any better as she could feel his hand moving up and down her arm, attempting to soothe her and so she finally asked a few minutes later.

 

“What are we going to do about Sherlock? I mean...”

 

She could feel Mycroft´s lip against her left temple, a short kiss before he answered her. “Oh that´s what has been bothering you. I should have known. But with all that has been happening tonight I probably forgot to tell you. He´ll be out in a few hours, don´t worry. Anthea is already preparing everything, most of it was ready for days already anyway.”

 

That surprised her. “Wait, so you could have gotten him out instantly?”

 

Mycroft nodded. “Of course I could have. I could have cleared him right away but me and Sherlock decided we would give our attackers what they wanted to draw them out. Sadly it took a bit longer than we anticipated.”

 

Wait. That meant. “So you knew where he was all the time?”

 

A sigh. “No. Sherlock running off was his arrogance of solving everything all alone. On top of his his misguided guilt I guess.” Mycroft answered and they both remembered what Sherlock had told them a few hours before.

 

“Yeah, Moran really did a number on us, didn´t he? I think we didn´t really realize how much.” She shuddered the thoughts away. No. They´d get through this and Moran could fuck off. He was dead anyway. 

 

“But tell me, what are you going to do about Moran? The video proofs that Sherlock...”

 

“People will always believe what we want them to believe. Tomorrow there will be news that some technicians found out that the video material has been tempered with. They´ll proof that somebody made us think that Sherlock killed Sebastian Moran live on video. With the right people stating this and planting a few hints here and there Sherlock will be out by afternoon. Don’t worry.” 

 

Sally smiled slightly but also let out a small huff. “Good. But I don´t want to think how much of the daily news we get is manipulated to your liking, do I?”

 

She couldn´t nearly hear the small smile Mycroft had now. “Well...” he started but Sally put a finger to his lips.

 

“I said I don´t want to think about it. My head hurts enough already.” 

 

So Mycroft said nothing and a kiss and a few minutes later both of them were deep asleep finally giving in the exhaustion.

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

 

Panting, Sally sat up and opened her eyes to look around the room.

 

Everything was okay. Just another nightmare, she told herself and sunk back into the pillows, looking at Mycroft who was still asleep, thank god. She hated to wake him with things like this. They were just silly dreams. 

 

Turning around she looked at the clock on the bedside table and saw she barely had slept 4 hours.

 

Great. 

 

Having these dreams it felt a bit like she was a little girl again. Back then when the abuse had happened she hadn´t slept as well, always scared he would come to her room once more. And even later when he was gone the nightmares had been normal for her for quite a while. 

 

After a few years though and after regular talks to her best friend they had been nearly gone.

 

Until her and Sherlock had seen their tormentor again last year. 

 

At least this time they had defeated him, she had told herself and she had been right: the dreams slowly became better. And then Moran happened. From then on she had dreamed nearly every night. 

 

Just like now. Only this time Svenson had been featured as well- as if she hadn´t had enough people she could have nightmares of already. Shaking her head at herself Sally decided to get up as she knew she wouldn´t find more sleep right now anyway. She was still too riled up from the dream. 

 

Restless. 

 

That, and she felt even more icky than before which made her decide she would shower first and then try to sleep again. Maybe the warm water would calm her somewhat and make her feel more human- it wasn´t like it hadn´t helped before. 

 

Tiptoeing towards the door she made sure she wouldn´t wake Mycroft. Of course Myc had told her to wake him if she had bad dreams again, because he wanted to be there for her, but Sally wouldn´t if she could help it.

 

They were just dreams. There wasn´t any real danger. 

 

Her brain was just stupidly replaying bad memories every night, so she wouldn´t let these memories let steal Mycroft´s sleep as well.

 

Especially in nights like this one, when he desperately needed to rest. 

 

Because who knew which political crisis or dangerous thing he would have to deal with tomorrow? It wasn´t like that Mycroft´s job paused when some idiot decided it was good to attack them again. 

 

No really, Sally knew she could deal with this alone. Just a nice long shower to get down from the dream and then she would crawl into bed again and sleep some more. She could do that. 

 

Turning on the shower in the bathroom, she stepped under the spray after putting out a towel and another shirt and shorts for her to sleep in. The warm water felt wonderful as it ran down her back and she reached for the soap as suddenly her world tilted.

 

It was dark.

 

Laughter.

 

She couldn´t move. The taste of blood was prominent on her tongue. They must have hit her again, she thought and tried not to panic.

 

Expecting to hear and see Moran any second now, she crouched down to hide and -

 

She had to get out of here. They-

 

Moran couldn´t get her again...

 

What if...

 

Then suddenly she was grabbed, arms around her, pinning her.

 

A voice.

 

The world tilted into focus again and all of a sudden there was Mycroft.

 

“Calm down, Sal. It´s all right. You´re safe.” 

 

Holding her breath she looked around and knew he was right.

 

Safe.

 

In their bathroom. The shower and...

 

“You must have slipped and hit your head on the faucet.” Mycroft deduced and now she felt the sting at the right side of her head, just below her hairline. 

 

“It´s all right. Just a small bump. Anthea is getting an ice pack.” he went on further and Sally couldn´t help but to feel embarrassed. 

 

A flashback.

 

Stupid, silly little memories. Impacting her. Again.

 

“I´m sorry.” she said, sounding small and broken even to herself, and Myc only looked at her sadly before trying to take her into his arms once more. This time she let him. 

 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

 

 

#

 

It had taken another hour to calm down and for both of them to shower. John had taken a look at her small bump and declared her lucky and the injury superficial. She was glad because no way she would have gone back to hospital right now. 

 

After that they had had a small breakfast then they went to the Yard to get Sherlock. Anthea had indeed worked her and Mycroft´s magic and now the Yard (and later in the afternoon the world) believed that the video had been tampered with. 

 

Sally was really grateful that this worked, even though she didn´t like to manipulate evidence like this. Nevertheless Moran hadn´t been an innocent man and Sherlock had acted when he was still in shock. No jury would deem him fully responsible after what Moran had done to them. And even if there hadn´t been a trial: the damage done with the video had been more than enough in addition to what Moran had done, Sally thought, and shuddered.

 

At least the world wouldn´t get to know that part. Being branded a victim like that was hard enough in front of the few people that did know who had seen the feed. She didn´t want strangers to look at her like that and Sherlock thought the same, she was sure of that.

 

Nevertheless they would work through this. In the end they had won. Not Svenson, Moran or Moriarty. 

 

When they entered the Yard, Sherlock had just been let out of the cell and was sitting in Lestrade`s office. He looked as tired as she still felt but smiled at them. Greg, to Sally´s surprise was back again as well, as was Anderson and she wondered if both of them had slept at all as she had just seen them about 7 hours ago. 

 

While they all settled down in Lestrade`s office as they still had to wait for Sherlock´s discharge papers, she was surprised when Anthea led Anderson into the office and then closed the door. 

 

“Mr. Anderson.” Mycroft nodded at him. “Anthea was just about to fill us in on Mrs. Svenson and I thought you might want to hear it as well.” 

 

A nod and Anderson settled down on a chair next to Sherlock of all places, who strangely said nothing for once. Sally had to grin at this. Wonders never ceased apparently. 

 

“Anthea?” Mycroft now nodded at his assistant and the woman did as she was told.

 

“Mrs. Ella Svenson, 34 years old, born in Scotland. Lost her parents at 3, wen t into the foster system, where she met Moran. They shared a room together at the Glasgow children´s home at one point, but we couldn´t find any other records connecting them. Despite a few minor charges like shoplifting she went to the police and then joined the MI6 7 years ago. Her supervisor said she did everything by the book. Never showed any signs of not being committed to the cause.” 

 

“And yet she was friends with Moran?” That was John, who like Sherlock, looked deep in thought about all this. 

 

“Yes, we believe so. As Moran was Moriarty´s right hand she must have been their insider into the MI6. Since she went in so long ago it was only caught now. We thought that if Moriarty had intel into the MI6 it must have been someone younger, someone easy to manipulate, who had just joined. The Glasgow branch checked her a few times but according to them nothing ever came up.” She huffed at that, clearly not happy by the work done by her colleagues and Sally thought the same. Somuch for the all knowing intelligence agency.

 

“Anyway, we searched her flat and came back with a few things, including something which looks like a diary. We only started to analyze it, but according to it she was in love with Moran, who didn´t reciprocate her feelings. She also did not like Moriarty but helped him because Sebastian Moran talked her into it.” 

 

“So she was a crazy bitch in love? That´s it?” Sally couldn´t help but groan and Anthea smiled at her outburst.

 

“Essentially, yes. At least she didn´t have any accomplices from the looks of it. She was resourceful cause she worked as agent, but she was a loner, except for her desire for Moran. So far it looks like there aren´t any more threads. She and Moran seem to have been the very last of Moriarty´s people, but of course we´ll keep on checking, just in case.” 

 

“Small mercies.” John commented and laughed at Sherlock´s huff. “Yes, Sherlock, I want to be optimistic for once. I hope we have seen enough of Moriarty´s crazy network forever.” 

 

“Well, at least now we know how Moran fled the MI6 headquarters a few months ago.” Anderson intercepted and Mycroft nodded.

 

“Yes indeed. The supervisors have been informed of this and there will be a thorough investigation on how this all could have happened. I believe a few heads will roll.” Mycroft smiled at this and Sally nearly had to laugh at the gleam in his eye. Her lover clearly would have a say in this as well which wasn´t a surprise since Svenson had killed two of his team. Samson had even been killed right in front of them as the dose in the epi pen had been lethal immediately. 

 

The other agent, Rowling from the shift before, had been found dead in his car trunk in the street. They were still reconstructing how that had happened. “But I wanted to take the time and thank everyone in this room again for making sure Svenson didn´t prevail.” Mycroft continued and turned to Lestrade who nodded. 

 

“No need to thank me. I was just protecting my friends.”

 

Anderson looked a bit humbled as Mycroft turned to him. “Mr. Anderson if I can do anything...” 

 

The forensic expert waved him off. “What Greg said. I was just looking out for my friends and colleagues of sort.” 

 

Sally saw Sherlock´s lips twitch at the “of sort” but again the consulting detective didn´t say anything. Maybe he was really tired? 

 

It was just moment that Anderson´s cellphone rang and he answered it. “I have a crime scene. You lot go home. Most of you still look like you partied through the night and not in a good way I might add.” 

 

And with that he was off. Greg was shaking his head at Mycroft´s expression. “Yeah he is getting cocky because he is not scared anymore, Mycroft. That´s normal behaviour for him. He means well, though.”

 

“I believe so. But he was right, we could need a bit of rest including you inspector. I took the liberty of arranging 2 free days for you and Sally, after the press conference that is.”

 

It was just that moment that a young sergeant came with the papers and soon they were on the way towards 221b. Since the press would only be notified in afternoon at the press conference they would at least get there in peace, Sally thought. Part of her wanted to help Lestrade face the questions but her boss had told her he would be all right. “Sally, I have faced the press alone in the past.” he had said and then spoken to Mycroft and Anthea again, who in no doubt had set everything up already. 

 

Maybe they were right. It was good to finally get a breather. 

 

#

 

John Hamish Watson was tired. Or maybe he was just getting old and feeling these nights of fighting crime and evil baddies more, either way- he was glad the thing with Svenson was over.

 

Keeping an eye on Donovan and Sherlock especially he hoped they would get some rest now which they desperately needed after all this. Hell, he was glad that Sherlock was finally here again.

 

A few minutes ago they had arrived at 221b and while Mycroft was still giving orders to Anthea outside, he had promised Mrs. Hudson to help her with the scones and the coffee she had made for them. Sally and Sherlock were already upstairs while Lestrade was trying to find a parking space somewhere. Just as he had taken the plate of scones he wandered upstairs and stopped in front of the door.

 

“You look tired.” Sherlock said inside and John had to grin at Sally´s brusk but obviously well meaning “Look who´s talking.” 

 

They were silent again and John was about to walk in as Sherlock spoke again.

 

“How are you really?” 

 

A sigh. “I don´t know. I just don´t want to talk or think about it okay?”

 

Sherlock´s answer was just a “Hm.”

 

Silence once more. Maybe he should go inside after all? But then there was still a chance of them needing some time alone. They needed to talk in John´s opinion. Especially after Sherlock had just ran off after the whole disaster.

 

“You know...” 

 

Sherlock again.

 

“... yes I know I can talk to you. Normally that´s my line, you know?” Sally huffed but there was a smile in her voice. “I...” She stopped and let out a long, noisy breath as if to take some courage. “You don´t have to worry. I will talk when I need to. Hell, the others already tried, you know? And yes, you all want to help but I first have to deal with it alone. It´s the way I am.” 

 

John expected another “Hm.” to this but...

 

“How about you start with stopping to blame yourself.”

 

She... okay now a lot of things made sense to John.

 

“I´m not...” 

 

John could practically imagine the look Donovan was receiving from Sherlock now, even though he couldn´t see it as the door was only open a tiny crack.

 

“How did you?” 

 

And now he could imagine Sally shaking her head.

 

“Deducing bastard.” 

 

Okay he hadn´t expected that. It sounded angry and he wanted to go in and prevent the fight as...

 

“Stubborn bitch.” 

 

That seemed to rile Sally up again and her voice grew a bit louder.

 

“Look who´s talking! You´re the one who ran off like a scared goat.” 

 

“Overthinking damsel!”

 

“Huh? What? I`m not a damsel.” 

 

“No. You are not. That´s the point actually. “

 

A small laugh from Sally. Then: “No, I´m not.” Before John could hear them both laughing silently.

 

“You´re still a stubborn git, though.” Sally said, albeit with affection and Sherlock´s “Likewise.” Sounded the same. 

 

John could hardly stop laughing himself as he realized the two of them still threw “pet names” at each other like they had at crime scenes so long ago. “Maybe some things would never change,” he thought and decided to finally go in, nodding at Mycroft who was now standing behind him, listening to the conversation as well.

 

When he entered the flat Sally was sitting in his chair in front of the fireplace, looking rather spent while Sherlock had settled down on the couch.

 

“Listening in on us?” Sally teased and John choose to say nothing to this while he started to get coffee cups and plates for everyone. He wasn´t surprised as Mycroft choose to say nothing as well, but knew that the words everyone wasn´t speaking were just as clear. 

 

Sherlock had been right, Sally needed to stop blaming herself for what had happened. And he needed to stop running, like Sally had said. And they knew everyone in the room would help them with that.

 

They had to, right?

 

#

 

John couldn´t tell if there had been noise or if it had been just plain intuition that woke him, but he immediately realized he was alone in bed. Sitting up he looked around and choose to wander into the living room.

 

It was there where he found his Sherlock, standing in front of one of the windows, looking out, deep in thought. The press that had been there that evening had been long gone as they had chosen to give a statement. But who knew if they´d be back tomorrow if they couldn´t find someone else to report about? John sincerely hoped not, since he wished for some peace for once.

 

“Sherlock? You all right?” he asked, walking up to the consulting detective. 

 

“Of course I am John. Some people simply need less sleep than others. “

 

John couldn´t help but smile at this. Stubborn git. Sally had been right. Nevertheless he (- and her) would only talk when they wanted to. There was no making them do this, but he´d be there once Sherlock would open up.

 

But apparently now wasn´t the time.

 

“It´s a waste of time anyway. I have been behind with my experiments and Lestrade gave my some cold cases weeks ago that I should have been...” 

 

Yeah right. It was then that John decided to stop his boyfriends ramble by simply turning him around and kissing him. Sherlock seemed to be surprised for a second, but then he kissed back and John thanked whatever power there was in the heavens for small mercies.

 

And it was surprisingly easy to urge Sherlock to more kisses as the consulting detective seemed to melt against John soon thereafter. He was probably not the only who had missed this, John guessed, and let his hands wander under Sherlock´s shirt.

 

A moan was another indicator that he was right and he smiled into the next kiss before both of them had to get some breath again.

 

“So you coming back to bed?” he asked, half tugging his boyfriend towards the bedroom already.

 

“I told you, I don´t need any more sleep...” Sherlock started but another kiss followed before the consulting detective could speak further.

 

“Who said anything about sleeping?” 

 

Before Sherlock could even say anything to this John let his hand travel into Sherlock´s pants where he found him half hard already.

 

“Well it seems you agree with me.” 

 

Sherlock snorted at this but didn´t put up any more resistance and soon thereafter they fell down on their bed kissing again. What followed was the two of them getting lost in each other, just feeling for once.

 

In the end John wasn´t surprised when Sherlock was the first to fall asleep soon after, convinced the consulting detective had been bone tired anyway. So John simply snuggled up to him, enjoying the moment of hearing the man whom he loved sleep and snore slightly, finally safe in his arms.

 

#

 

Another day gone, Sally could hardly believe it. Luckily she had escaped the press all day, thanks to the good organisation of Anthea. A few reporters had turned up at 221b and bothered the neighbours there, but after Sherlock had given a statement even they had gone.

 

If that had been because they had reported everything they wanted or if it had been Mycroft´s work she simply didn´t care this time.

 

It was over.

 

Finally.

 

Svenson and Moran could rot in their graves and so could Moriarty, damn it!

 

Finishing up with rinsing her mouth she put the toothbrush away and wandered into the bedroom where Mycroft was already waiting. It felt so good to simply snuggle up to her lover for a little while without having to worry about assassins or some world crisis. Mycroft seemed to enjoy that as well if the long kisses and his wandering hands were anything to go by and Sally moaned as he found that spot on her neck which made her go crazy.

 

They were just about to go further as Mycroft´s mobile started to ring. Mycroft grimaced as he reached for the phone and Sally could agree. So much for a little bit of peace.

 

Thankfully it didn´t take long as only 2 minutes later Mycroft rang off again.

 

“That was Anthea. Apparently Mrs. Tumbleton died in her sleep today. She went to bed right after she was brought back from the Yard but never woke up. They think her heart gave out.” 

 

Sally simply shook her head, out of words at what to say about this. What the hell? There´d had been so many questions she had wanted to ask her old neighbour after John told her the story of how she had showed up at the Yard.

 

Mycroft seemed a bit out of words himself, but took her into his arms and she snuggled up to him once more.

 

“I ... how? I mean, I wanted to ask her so many things that...?” She stopped again. This was beyond weird, right? 

 

Mycroft seemed to think similar for once.

 

“Sometimes life works in weird ways, I guess.” 

 

Sally huffed at this.

 

Mycroft guessing? That was new.

 

Nevertheless maybe there were really more things between heaven and earth than even Mycroft could comprehend.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yep that was the last chapter- only an epilogue left. Hope you guys enjoyed the ride... we´ll see if I ever write more...
> 
> Thanks goes to seven percent for betaing again and to you guys for reading and especially to the ones commenting and leaving kudos!


	15. Chapter 15

**Epilogue**

 

John guessed he shouldn´t have been surprised as he heard little feet trampling down the stairs as loud as they could. Only seconds later Beth entered Mrs Hudson´s kitchen, wearing a deep scowl that would have made her father proud.

 

“Whats the matter, luv?” he asked and got a big sigh from the six year old, who now settled down at Mrs. Hudson´s kitchen table, pen and paper in hand. 

 

“They are arguing again.” She answered, emphasizing the word argueing, clearly to show her annoyance. “It´s giving me a headache and I can´t do my homework.” 

 

John smiled as he himself had fled down to Mrs. Hudson about half an hour an hour ago as Sally and Sherlock had started to argue about the Sailor´s case they were currently investigating.

 

At this time Beth hadn´t even been home from school which she had just started a few weeks ago. Anthea must have brought her here, as she did every day, before going back to work with Mycroft again.

 

“Ah and so you came down here to work in silence? I understand that, believe me. Want some hot chocolate?” 

 

The girl nodded but looked rather lost which made John´s heart clench a little. “You know they are not really fighting, right? They just like to argue. Especially when there´s a case?”

 

Beth grimaced but nodded, watching him as he put the milk onto the stove for the hot chocolate. “I don´t like it.” She stated then and John nodded.

 

“ Yeah, but it´s best to simply ignore it. Wait for half an hour and they´ll be normal again.” 

 

Beth sighed once more and started to look at her paper, not really concentrating on it, so John tried again to resassure the little girl. “Don´t worry it´ll be over soon. Sherlock is just grumpy because he didn´t sleep well.” And grumpy he was, John himself had experienced that this very morning. Damn git still wasn´t a good talker, he became rather foul mouthed or avoiding when something bothered him.

 

That seemed to spike Beth´s interest. “Why?” she asked.

 

“Ah, you know even adults like your daddy get bad dreams sometimes.” He told her and smiled once more, thinking back to the night. It was just the time of the year again. It didn´t even matter it had been over 6 years ago, the memories still lingered and John of all people understood that. 

 

It wasn´t like he himself sometimes didn´t struggle with memories of Sherlock´s fall or Afghanistan. And the beginning of the year was Sherlock´s and Sally´s bad time. Some years it had seemed to be getting better and some it had worsened again, often depending on the cases they were working. But all in all both, his husband and Sally, had remained strong and became even stronger working through it. He was proud of them both because of this.

 

Still, there were always traces that remained after traumas like this and last night had been such a trace.

 

“What did daddy dream about, uncle John?” Beth asked then and got him out of his thoughts again. “Mummy sometimes dreams bad things, too and then she comes to me to cuddle. She says I make the bad dreams go away. Maybe I can make daddy Sherlock´s bad dreams go away as well?” 

 

It took all of John´s willpower not to tear up at this. If she only knew how much she had made the bad dreams go away for them all. Elisabeth Holmes-Donovan was really a treasure, more than she probably would ever realize. They had decided though she´d never know how exactly she came to be if they couldn´t help it. Just because it would probably would make her feel like a mistake, and that she sure as hell wasn´t. 

 

It was just like Sally had said back it then: they would do it again if it meant that she would be the outcome. And Donovan was right about it. 

 

They were a strange family anyway, with Elisabeth having two fathers already, not to mention that there were him and Anthea, and then their occupations and therefore the risks that came with them. But for Elisabeth having two dads, an uncle John and uncle Greg who could be also counted as fathers, having three grandmas including Mrs Hudson, who of course always insisted she was the landlady not a babysitter, thank you very much- only then to spoil Beth graciously and watch her anyway. 

 

Well, it sure as hell was a bit complicated, but so far everything was working really really well.

 

It was that moment that Sally and Sherlock choose to come into the kitchen, obviously having noticed the absence of their daughter. John couldn´t help but notice the tiredness around Sally´s eyes as well. He guessed that Beth´s so soothing cuddling session couldn´t have been that long ago either but he elected to say nothing about it.

 

Sally and Sherlock would come and talk to them if it was necessary, so much they had learned. Forcing them or trying to get them to therapy hadn´t helped- it had rather started a big fight.

 

Both of them were just too stubborn about it and therefore he and Mycroft as well had let their lovers decide if they wanted to talk.

 

Before he could even say another word the door opened again and Mrs. Hudson entered the room, obviously back from running errands. She was carrying a bag with groceries and smiled at everyone as John and Sherlock both immediately went over to help her.

 

It didn´t take long for the groceries to be unpacked but having done so, Mrs. Hudson didn´t look that happy.

 

“Oh dear, I could have sworn I had two packs of flour in there.” She sighed. “I have no idea where my mind is lately.”

 

As Sherlock tried to reassure Mrs. Hudson, that forgetting things sometimes was all right and totally normal, John caught the worrying glance of his lover and tried to resassure him as well. So far Mrs. Hudson wasn´t showing any real signs of Alzheimer´s although things like this today had them worried sometimes. Still John believed it was just age showing a bit which, since she was nearing 80 now, was no surprise.

 

“Don´t worry Mrs. Hudson, I was just about to get something to eat anyway and there´s a Tesco next to the deli. I´ll bring 2 packs of flour for you so you can make us that delicious apple pie you were about to bake.”

 

That was Sally and John had to grin as it really sounded as if Sally was just doing it for the pie. Of course he knew better, because Sally liked the pie yes, but not as much as she was pretending right now.

 

Still it made Mrs. Hudson laugh again and that was the most important thing.

 

“Well I suppose I could make you some pie if you want it that bad.” Mrs. Hudson responded and soon Sally was on her way, Beth in tow, who had wanted to come with. 

 

Watching Mrs. Hudson put her groceries away while she chatted with Sherlock, he poured himself the hot chocolate instead since there was no way he was about to let it go to waste.

 

Beth could have hers later with Mrs. Hudson´s apple pie instead.

 

#

 

Sally couldn´t help but smile as she watched how her daughter happily chatted away about her day, swinging the plastic bag with the flour from one side to the other.

 

They were just on the way to the indian takeaway two buildings further, where Sally had ordered lunch before getting the flour at the supermarket. She was glad she was finally getting to eat something soon as she was starving, having had no time for breakfast again.

 

But again fate was having different ideas, this time in shape of Mr. Sailor, a thuggish shop owner and suspect of the current case. Stepping in from god knows where he suddenly appeared in front of Sally and Beth and blocked their way, another thug in tow.

 

“You should have talked to me.” he barked and Sally rolled her eyes before gently pushing Beth behind her.

 

“There was nothing to say. You should have been glad I haven´t arrested you yet. But...” She didn´t get any further as Mr. Sailor jumped her immediately and she had to fight him off. Having no other choice but to defend herself she watched in horror as the other thug went for Beth. 

 

“Leave her alone.” She screamed, getting a good hook on Sailor, which sadly didn´t knock him out. “She´s just a kid.” 

 

The thug of course ignored her and Sally had to duck a punch from Sailor as she heard Beth scream. Panic rose inside her and she fought harder, trying to get to her daughter, who was fighting as well. She was still trying to evade the thug’s arms and Sally tried to get between them while still fighting Sailor. Suddenly the other thug cried out, before going stiff for a second. Throwing another kick she managed to hit Sailor on his solar plexus and he finally went down. 

 

She just turned around to see Beth swinging the bag of flour at the thugs face, who was still holding his balls and Sally went in to punch him as well. Three seconds later both bad guys were unconscious on the ground due to a mother- daughter effort. 

 

Making sure the guys were really out she turned and took Elisabeth into her arms and then proceeded to call Mycroft. Even though this had been a Yard case she would let Mycroft deal with them because attacking her daughter just went a tad too far. 

 

She was sure Mycroft would have a field day telling these guys what he and the others of the family thought of that.

 

Beth in her arms was trembling, obviously in shock, and Sally looked her over just to make sure she wasn´t hurt.

 

Luckily for the guys she seemed unhurt, otherwise she would have considered killing them right on the spot. So instead she took her daughter into her arms again and tried to calm her down.

 

“Shhh it´s all right, Beth. It´s all right. Mummy is very proud of you, you know that right?” 

 

 

#

 

It was late afternoon when Lestrade got the shipment of Mr. Sailor and his thug Howard Wright, both of them looking a little worse for wear and fully inclined to admitting the murder of Mr. Sailor´s business partner Tim Capenter.

 

Sherlock had just had a few minutes alone with Sailor in the car and the criminal looked like he was about to piss his pants.

 

Good for him, Lestrade thought, as it sure as hell would teach him to never attack a kid ever again. Not that he would get out of a cell anytime soon, the inspector supposed, and cuffed the two criminals and let Anderson lead them away. The forensic scientist had heard of the incident and looked like he wanted to have a go as well. Greg knew he liked the little girl as much as he did and he wouldn´t say anything if there was something happening to the guys on the way to the cell.

 

Hell some people deserved to hit the ground sometimes, didn´t they?

 

Since he was sure the criminals were in capable hands he went over to Sherlock and Sally, who had insisted on delivering the thugs personally.

 

“I can´t believe you have been teaching her Kung fu again. She´s only six, Sherlock.” Sally was ranting and Greg nearly turned around to make sure he didn´t get caught in the discussion as Sally´s voice soften all of the sudden. “Anyway, thanks Sherlock. You did a hell of a job, maybe you should teach me as well? Seems like I´m getting a bit rusty. It took me nearly a minute to take Sailor out.”

 

“Well given that he is about 20 centimeters bigger and nearly twice as heavy...” Sherlock started and Greg couldn´t help himself and started to laugh. 

 

That made Sherlock stop and Sally watch him a bit uneasy as well.

  
Still laughing Greg tried to catch his breath. “Sorry, I know that´s no laughing matter but you two are hilarious. And it´s really no surprise that Beth is your daughter. There´s really no mistaking her, with these two parents she is supposed kick ass like this.”

 

For a second Sally looked like she was about to say something but then she joined in and laughed as well. To Greg´s surprise Sherlock followed soon thereafter.

 

“You should have seen Carpenter´s face when she kicked him in the balls for second time, just a moment before I knocked him out.” Sally giggled. 

 

Greg tried to do so and laughed more as well. Elisabeth Holmes-Donovan sure as hell was a special kind of treasure, just like her parents and the rest of her family.

 

Bad guys would never know what hit them.

 

 

The End

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yep, that´s it. Hope you´ve enjoyed the ride. My never ending thanks goes to my beta seven percent and to the people who commented. ;-)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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